


Under The Gun

by areyouserial



Series: The Penthouse [4]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst Between Exes, Face-Sitting, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Pining Idiots, Rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouserial/pseuds/areyouserial
Summary: Blindsided by Noble’s knee-jerk decision to cut and run, Jamie is left to resolve how the hell he’s supposed to move on from the hardest, most real love he’s ever had.He can let the chips fall where they may, or he can go all in. Sometimes the reward is worth the risk.
Relationships: Jamie Reagan/Noble Sanfino
Series: The Penthouse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/986904
Comments: 249
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Penthouse series continues with part 4, shortly after Jamie and Noble's breakup. Let's see how this ride continues.

“Do you want to stay for a drink before you go?” My dad proposes as he makes his way into the kitchen. 

I stand at his sink and wash the grease from my hands after having them inside the hood of his car out in the garage. “Uh, sure,” I agree.

“How much do I owe you for the spark plugs?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Shutting off the water, I find a dish towel to dry my hands and turn to see my father just hovering nearby at the counter. 

“Jamie.”

“Okay fine,” I laugh softly. “You owe me one whiskey neat.”

“I can cover that.”

“Where’s Grandpa?”

“He’s off at that… vintage auto show with Bob,” he informs me, making his way to the cabinet for two glasses. He produces a bottle, unscrews it and tips it over each one, then leads the way to the study. 

With some hesitation, I follow him. 

The house is quiet. An uneventful Saturday evening had the potential to provide me with too much room and space to think. So I had offered to spend the afternoon at my dad’s, distracting myself with some routine car maintenance. 

“You’ve been a little off the grid, haven’t you?” He questions, taking a seat in his arm chair. 

I glance up at him as I sit back in what’s usually designated as my grandfather’s chair. “How so?” I ask, taking the glass that he passes over.

My father considers it over a slow sip and shrugs. “Just my observation. Skipped a couple Sunday dinners. Banged in sick a few tours.”

The last one prompts a furrowed brow and I tilt my head. “Why do you know that?” 

He doesn’t answer, just looks at me as if to remind me that’s a stupid fucking question.

“Since when do you keep tabs on my sick days?” I wonder.

“When it becomes a pattern, I want to make sure everything’s alright.”

I stall with a sip of whiskey, then set the glass down on the side table. “I’m sorry about Sundays.” 

He’s right. Ever since my eruption at the family dinner table, nearly two months ago after Noble and I called things off, my appearances at my dad’s house have been few and far between. I’d made up excuses, or just been an altogether no-show, depending on how far deep inside my own misery I’d let myself get by the time Sunday rolled around.

Erin had tried to give me my space, but made sure to follow up probably once a week to gauge my current state. And I’m pretty sure Dad had stuck his DCPI Garrett to check in on me for a tour or two, as if I wouldn’t know he was fishing for clues about what was going on with me. 

“I’ll come tomorrow,” I assure him. “I’m feeling better.”

He nods. “Anything you need to tell me?”

I shift my gaze around, curious. My absences had probably given Erin a chance to hint to him that I was _going through something_ , enough to pique his concern, but not enough that I could blame her for betraying my trust. “Why, what have you heard?”

“Nothing, from you.”

I look over, reaching for my glass that I merely twist on the tabletop. “There are things… yeah,” I muse. “That I want to tell you. The hard part is, I’m always talking to the Commissioner.”

“You know that doesn’t have to be the case.”

It’s almost like I’m too numb for this to be hard anymore. There was a time, last year, when the idea of confessing my relationship with Noble to my father gave me a migraine headache and made me want to lie in the dark until it passed. It hurt to breathe, my heart raced just thinking about him knowing. And now it’s like, _well how the fuck much worse can it get?_

“I got involved with something…” I say, blinking my gaze someplace far as I tilt my head back against the chair. “With someone… that I know you wouldn’t approve of. And before you go and reprimand me, just know that it’s over, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

He lets a quiet moment hang there, tightening the agony a little in my chest, but a deep breath dissolves it.

He finally responds, “Something illegal?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “No.”

“Immoral?”

A soft laugh escapes me and slowly, I shake my head with a shrug. 

“Because I’m not the authority on that,” he adds.

I smirk. “Aren’t you?”

“Come on.”

My hesitation takes a few seconds as I search for the right words. But there’s no point in attempting to craft any kind of strategic phrasing, so I begin with the simplest part. “Just…” I swallow hard. “A while ago, I started… seeing this guy.” I look at my dad, an effort to sense his reaction to that news but he doesn’t seem to have one and I add, “You know, dating--”

“I got that,” he says. “I’m waiting for the part I wouldn’t approve of.”

Just then it’s like my chest finally takes in more air. All I can do is let some of it out in a breathy, disbelieving laugh. “Um--” I clear my throat. “Well, he’s in WitSec which makes it--”

My father lifts his glass to his mouth before he murmurs, “Noble Sanfino.”

I think my heart stops. My voices freezes and I just look at him. Some little noise edges out of my throat, but that’s about it. _Jesus_ , just hearing that name scorches my insides.

“How--?” I finally manage. “I mean… You knew?”

He inhales deep and considers it. “No. I didn’t know. Just an educated assumption.”

I nod, still a little dumbfounded. I guess, how many people do I know in witness protection? It’s not exactly hard to connect those dots, but damn that was an awfully quick deduction. “Yeah,” is all I can mutter.

“Why did it end?” My dad asks.

Of all questions, that’s a strange one. I furrow my brow while I stall for the right thing to tell him. “The um… long distance was difficult, and realistically, I’m not sure what kind of life he could have here.”

He sits with my answer for a moment. “Why did it start?”

I feel my forehead crease as my brows lift in surprise and I cough in amusement. “Dad.”

He just looks at me and waits for an explanation.

An uncomfortable laugh escapes me and I stumble for what to say. “What do you mean _why_? I-- We sort of became friends, and then--” I offer a shrug. “The way any other relationship starts. Only under weird circumstances."

“You never came to me about it.”

I swallow nervously. "I couldn't imagine any angle to the story that you would think is okay."

He nods softly but makes this face like he wouldn't expect me to suppose that. 

"It doesn't mean--" I go on. "That I considered that relationship a mistake. I don't. I just… knew it was impossible."

"And yet you still pursued it."

I don't exactly know how to explain to my dad my attraction to Noble -- this intense as fuck connection we had, and the fact that no one's ever made me feel the way he did. I can't say that to him. So I merely lift my shoulders for lack of an answer.

"Because you're right," he agrees. "From what you've told me, there isn't an angle to this that sounds like a smart move, Jamie." 

I nod and look at him. "Trust me, I'm aware… of how it sounds, how it looks. On paper." I exhale softly and raise my glass for another slow sip. After a hard swallow I continue. "I kept imagining some damn press release about the PC's _gay son_ and his… boyfriend from an infamous crime family and I just…" I shake my head, defeated but I have to laugh. "Anyway, like I said, it's over.” I sit there, pondering the finality of it all. I pass my hand across my mouth, rubbing there along my jawline before I mutter, “Sucks, though. He’s pretty great.”

Dad's quiet for a few seconds and then he offers, “I believe you.”

It’s stupid but I miss thinking about Noble. For weeks, I forced thoughts of him from my mind, continuously reminding myself that I can’t. _Don’t think about him, don’t think about him._ I've gotta move on.

He meant it when he said we needed to end this, so I just stayed trapped behind those explicit instructions.

“Jamie--”

All I do is meet my father’s gaze in unspoken appreciation. 

He continues. “Don’t assume I would reduce you to some asinine headline. A hypothetical one, at that--”

Unexpectedly, my throat gets hot, the way it would if tears were threatening my eyes. Instead, I just sigh and affirm him, “I know you wouldn’t.”

"But I'm not sure I understand why you thought it was necessary to put yourself in that kinda danger."

I scoff. " _Necessary_. Dad--" I could throw back in his face the fact that he's poker buddies with Angelo Gallo, every mobster's favorite defense lawyer. Not to mention he's found himself in some romantic situations that don't exactly have the best optics. But I reel in the compulsion to get defensive. 

He goes on, this critical pull at his brow. “You rank near the top of people I know with some of the best judgment of character.” 

I reach for my glass once more, peering into the dwindling whiskey. “I don’t know. Sometimes you accuse me of being out there just trying to save stray puppies.”

"Is Noble Sanfino a stray puppy?"

The slightest smile twitches on my lips before I can stop it. "No."

"You're not one to act out of… rebellion, Jamie.”

I shake my head, confused. "What, like I was trying to piss you off, or defy you? You know I--”

"So this was real--"

" _Yes_ , it was real dad."

He looks at me, just seeming to wait for more.

“Of course I didn’t… pursue him with some intent to prove a point, or act out or whatever,” I explain. “And I didn’t go looking for a dangerous situation, or try to be a hero. He doesn’t need saving. He--” Pressing my lips together I consider it. And then I slow down, an effort to be more deliberate in what I say. "The danger component was always in the back of my mind. But Dad, it all felt very… I don't know. Normal. For me. And that’s why I’m telling you all of this. Because even though it’s over with him, it was… it _is_ a part of my life that… that I want you to know.”

Everything inside my chest has crumbled like ashes. It’s never been this hard for me to articulate what I mean, but there’s just too fucking much and I feel like he can’t understand the half of it. 

So I just sit there, grazing my brow with my fingertips and close my eyes. 

“Maybe--” he finally says. “There are a dozen angles to the story. But I care about _yours_ because it’s the truth, regardless. That’s the one I want to know.”

I glance up at him. Some relief rising inside of me. He can disapprove if that’s all he can manage, but what matters is that he knows this was real.

“And while we’re being honest,” he adds, reaching over to the table for his drink once again. “Nothing about this sounds like it’s over.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What is  _ this _ ?” I call out with a groan. “Are you kidding?”

When I step out of my car, I spot Vinny sitting on the front stoop of my apartment. “Where’ve you been, man?”

I tug the duffel bag out of my back seat and hoist it on my shoulder as I make my way closer. “The range,” I answer. “What’s it to you?”

“Thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to hang out,” he offers. “I sent you a text.”

“Oh,” I utter, feeling for the phone in the pocket of my jeans. “I didn’t check.” As I approach my apartment, I eye him in suspicion. “What is this, an intervention?”

Vinny scoffs. “Nah.”

With a roll of my eyes, I flip through the keys in my hand. “I’m good,” I murmur. “But you’re welcome to come in if you--”

“I don’t want to come in. I wanna go out.”

“Well I’m not going out,” I assert with a shrug. Admittedly, for most of my friends’ invitations to go do something, I’ve been a no-show. I’ve either made up excuses or altogether rejected them in favor of staying home.

“We’re not going out to a bar,” Vinny clarifies. “I’m taking you to my dad’s shop.”

“What?”

“Come on--”

“I don’t need you to take me to get a haircut.”

“What were you about to do?” He wonders.

Exhaling heavily, I look at him. “Watch the game.”

“What game?” His eyes narrow.

I don’t have an answer for that because really I was just going to sleep or clean my apartment. 

“Exactly--” Vinny answers for me. “You don’t even have to get a cut if you don’t want. You can just hang out. Get a cup of coffee, shoot the shit.”

I look at him. Admittedly, driving around and doing something simple like that sounds like just as good of a way to pass the time as any. “Fine,” I decide. “I’ll drive.”

* * *

“I know we avoid the topic at work--” Vinny starts beside me after a few quiet minutes where I maneuver us out of Brooklyn. “But what’s the latest? How’re you holding up?”

“How am I  _ holding up _ ?”

“Have you been in touch with Nick at all? Are you guys--?” He trails off.

With a slow shake of my head, I concentrate on my view out the front windshield while I drive. “Nope.”

“Do you--” He exhales this confused breath. “I mean, do you  _ want _ to talk to him?”

“Of course.”

“Then what’s that about? To go from what you guys had to zero contact. Totally cut off.”

“That’s what he wanted.” I clench my jaw and swallow hard when I can feel Vinny’s gaze on me.

“That’s not what Bella says,” he murmurs. 

I’m not doing this. I won’t use Vinny’s connection to Bianca to fish for some sort of insight into what’s going on with Noble. 

I know Vinny and Bianca still talk. Hell, I think by now, they’ve developed some full-on relationship, but I’m sort of in the dark about it all.

A heavy breath takes a slow moment to leave my chest. “It’s how he needed to handle things,” I reason. “And I have to respect that.”

“Oh, come on, Reagan. Respect my ass. You  _ know _ Nick wants to make it work with you but you gotta make moves, man.”

“What moves am I supposed to make, huh? It’s not fair to him, to put him up against my family, to make him confront that shit for, what--? Forever? It’ll never feel normal. We’ll just feel like we’ve created a situation that suddenly everyone has to deal with.”

“Creating situations that everyone has to deal with?” He echoes. “That’s life, bro. That’s anything.”

“Alright. What would you say if Bella decided she wants to move to New York and be with you?”

“Whoa, you can’t compare--”

“Why not?” I shrug.

"Because we're just talking."

"Yeah, well, there was a time when Nick and I were just  _ talking _ ," I quip, then propose, "So fast forward. It's turned into something and it's serious. She wants to move here. You want it, but you know all the other variables in play. What's your plan?" I put the scenario on him.

"You know more than I do," he nods at me. “When it comes to what really went down in that undercover and the situation they left behind.”

“Knowing what you know,” I provide.

Vinny rests his elbow along the passenger side window and strokes a hand across his mouth in thought. He shakes his head a little then eventually turns to look at me. “I’d try to make it work,” he decides. “Try to have a normal life together, that’d be my plan.”

“Yeah, but what kinda life?” I mutter the question, more to myself. 

“It’s a big city, Reagan.”

“It’s a tiny fucking island and you know it.”

“I’m not gonna let a cowardly threat like that run my life,” he explains. “Someone’s gotta beef with me, or the person I’m with, they can come settle it face to face. But sending some fatass lackey with a gat to do your dirty work? Man, fuck that.”

I ponder it, how Vinny could be so confident about factors that are ultimately out of his control. But are they? Now I can’t be sure. Between Erin’s conviction that there’s some imminent threat, and his unruffled _ let ‘em come find me  _ outlook, I’m not sure where I’m supposed to fall on this spectrum of paranoia.

Vinny shifts in his seat and adds, “But you’re always thinking ten steps ahead, so maybe I don’t know the whole situation.”

“What if…” I start, leaning back to slide my hands down the steering wheel at a red light. “What if in this  _ normal life _ together, something happened to her? Wouldn’t you feel like it was your fault? How would--” I pause, swallowing hard because it’s not Bianca I’m thinking about and even the possibility stings my chest. “How could you live with that?”

“Reagan, someone could trip over their own shoe in Queens and you’d find a way to blame yourself.”

I merely exhale a tired laugh.

“What if someone crashed into us right now on our way uptown?” He goes on. “You’d feel at fault, I know you would. Does that mean we should have never gotten in the car? I mean, you could play the  _ what-if _ game all day.”

“Vin, those are accidents,” I insist. “This is different. This is… pulling Nick away from a decidedly more secure environment, back into one with proven risk.”

“Everything we do has proven risk,” he argues. “You think there’s not a price on the PC’s head all over the five boroughs? Yet he still goes about his business.”

“My dad has intel and full time security detail, there’s a difference.”

Resting his hand on his chest, Vinny shrugs. “And Bella would have me, so there ain’t nothing to be worried about.”

I chuckle softly. I have to. His bravado borders on ridiculous, but sometimes I wish I could come off that certain. With a smirk, I cut my gaze over to him. “Thought you guys were just talking.”

“Man, shut up.”

* * *

We make our way up to 123rd Street where Vinny’s dad’s barber shop sits on a busy block near Columbia and the 28th precinct. I’ve never met anyone from Vinny’s family before so it’s nice to finally put a face with the stories he’s told since our time riding together. 

We pass through the door and Vinny’s met with a chorus of happy greetings from the people inside, both working or just hanging out with a newspaper, watching the soccer match that plays on the TV over on the wall.

“The original Vinny Cruz,” Vinny introduces, once he’s made his way over to his father and I follow in beside him. “This is my dad, Vincent Senior. Dad, this is Jamie Reagan, best partner I ever had. Second best-looking cop in the NYPD.”

“I don’t know about that,” I chuckle, reaching out for a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hey, what a nice surprise,” Vinny’s dad smiles wide behind a full, sandy mustache, his features lighter than Vinny’s and returns the firm grip. Then he pulls me in to hug one arm around my back where he leaves an affectionate clap. “Great to finally meet you, Jamie.”

“You got time for us in your chair today, Pop?”

“Ah, Vinny, you know I’m very busy. It’s Saturday,” he tells us as he works to put away some of the tools he just cleaned. “Lots of customers.”

“We’ll wait,” Vinny offers. “We’ll hang out. But look at this guy, Dad.” He slaps a hand on my shoulder, then reaches over and squeezes my face in his hand. “My boy needs help. You see what he’s trying to pull off?”

Hissing an embarrassed laugh, I shake my head, tugging out of his grasp. “Hey. You said this wasn’t an intervention.”

Vinny’s father chuckles and pats the leather seat back of his chair. “Come on. We can get you fixed up, Jamie.”

“I just need you looking right if you’re gonna ride with me.”

I spread my hands, my brows tugging together in a question. “What? I gotta shave too?” After I move to take off my jacket, I’m appreciative when Mr. Cruz offers to hang it up for me before I take a seat in his chair.

“Hell yeah, that’s got to go,” Vinny insists, gesturing to his face as he sits back in a chair of his own near his dad’s work station. “We all got problems, Reagan, but that, I can’t understand. The way you have that… arranged on your face, that can’t be negligence. That’s like… did you  _ try  _ to make it grow only in those specific spots?”

I sputter an unexpected laugh, shaking my head and just let him continue his roast now that some of the other guys in the shop are chuckling in amusement.

“Lookin’ like you rubbed your face with a glue stick and rolled around on the floor.”

Vinny’s dad cracks a loud laugh at that one as he returns, fastening a black cape around my throat. But he nearly misses me when I slide over in the chair, my laughter shaking my shoulders.

I pinch my fingers at the corners of my eyes and I feel them starting to water, my cheeks growing sore. Vinny’s cracking himself up and I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.

“Alright, alright,” I manage with a weary groan. “Listen, it wasn’t intentional. I just got lazy with the upkeep.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna fix that.” He decides, standing up as his chuckles taper off. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

Prompted by Vinny’s dad who flicks on his electric clippers to start with my hair, I straighten in the chair and let out a calming deep breath. “Sure, man.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write a version of this scene from canon for a while now and this was the universe to do it. It's short. But it hurts.

“The day we pick up an extra shift and I thought it’d be quiet on the radio.” Vinny gripes. The two of us head down the stairwell just after our follow-up on a noise complaint which turned out to be an alarm clock left going off for hours that a neighbor could hear through the wall. 

“See, that’s a waste of police resources,” he continues and we push our way out of the building. “You know how much it just cost the city to have two uniformed officers check on the well being of an alarm clock?”

“Guess that neighbor assumed nobody was turning it off, they must be dead.”

“Call the super for that shit. It’s annoying.”

I shrug. “I don’t disagree.”

“It should be up to some social services agency where they use civilians to respond to those kinds of calls," he proposes, straightening his hat as we head down the sidewalk. "We’re expensive. These days, people call the police because their plant died. Nine times out of ten, it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, but you can’t think that way,” I reason. “What about the time when it’s not. You don’t want untrained civilians walking in on a suicide or an overdose.”

“Oh, Reagan,” he groans in amusement and then just laughs.

“Plus, that would just be one more agency we’d have to coordinate with on calls that aren’t so cut and dry, no thanks. You ever have a run-in with those Civilian Patrol guys? They’re a pain in the ass.”

“Ah-ha.” He grins. “The truth comes out. For you, it’s about control.”

“Alright, that’s enough of the Vinny Cruz commentary for one tour.”

“Anyway. My real complaint is that I was hoping to hit up that taco truck down on 28th but now we’re all the way on the other side of the precinct--”

_ “All units. We have officers requesting backup at Twenty-Three Hundred Kings Highway. Bitterman Housing Projects--” _

“Damn,” Vinny mutters in a breath as the dispatch relays a description of a robbery in progress. Armed suspect. Shots fired. "Central, show Twelve-George responding."

“Looks like the taco truck will have to wait,” I note. We approach our patrol car and swiftly duck inside before I start off up the block, lighting the sirens.

“This is our third call to the Bitterman complex this week, Cruz,” I muse aloud. “Doesn’t feel right.”

“Your brother and his squad have been after Los Lordes over there since that homicide last week,” Vinny recalls. “Something tells me things at The Bitter End are a little  _ unsettled _ ever since they got involved.”

“The NYPD disturbing the peace, huh?” I exhale a soft laugh, my eyes darting across the block when I cut the cruiser for a sharp turn.

“That’s a good thing. The old homestead needs a good shake down. So whatever we gotta do to get some more of these guys--”

I glance over and see Vinny clench his throat. I can tell when his focus sharpens -- when he shifts from good-natured rants about food and his voice changes a little, lower and more purposeful. 

The calls we’ve gotten from these projects obviously hit close to home with him. Every incident here, while reminding him what he was able to move on from, forces him to face it again.

With a shots fired call, I'm already drawing as Vinny and I rush out of our car and meet the other officers, Jones and Webber, who were first on the scene. 

“Young male, hispanic, black t-shirt. Ran back inside after snatching a bag.”

“The victim?” I question.

“She ran off before we arrived.” Webber recounts. “You guys take the side in case he runs out. Jones and I are headed up. There were reports of shots fired from an upper floor window.”

“Anyone hit?” Vinny asks.

“Not that we’ve seen. But this guy’s not acting alone.”

With a quick nod of confirmation, I meet Vinny’s eyes and we move out. 

Just as the other two officers head to the main doors, I spot the alleyway exit fly open and the perp takes off around the building.

“Reagan, down here!” Vinny shouts. “Stop! Police!”

I turn to call back to Jones, “Cut him off--” and point down the block.

But Vinny dashes ahead and I push forward in a race to catch up. He’s fast, faster than I am when he wants to be, and probably the only other cop at the 12th who can give me a run for my money.

We pursue him through the courtyard, jumping a gate along the way. And while I’m fueled by adrenaline, something feels off to me about the chase. Like it’s a lot of production for one bag snatch. 

I second guess for a moment whether the responding officers should have gone ahead inside the building to locate the shooter instead of coming with us on this foot chase.

Rounding the corner alongside the unit, I stop short when I see Vinny slow his stride, turning his head in confusion with no sign of the suspect.

Peering across the strangely empty walkway, I start toward him. “Vinny--”

“He took off this way,” Vinny muses between spent exhales. And with a furrowed brow, backs away to assess the building. “Where the hell’d he go?”

With a heavy breath, my gaze narrows. “It’s a setup,” I decide, my vision scanning the grid of windows overhead. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Move back--”

Then without warning, a shot fires from a source I can’t determine.

Immediately, I draw my gun. Vinny does the same but neither one of us spots any activity. 

But then a series of three more shots  _ pop _ \-- one of them grazing my shoulder and I’m knocked down. Glass shatters somewhere in the distance and instinctively, I turn over, cover my head, but then I hear Vinny shout my name before he hits the pavement.

“Vinny!” I react, lunging toward him but another  _ crack _ of gun fire makes me recoil. “Ah, fuck,” I mutter, finding cover up against a short ledge, reaching for the radio at my shoulder when I see my partner lying on his back, not moving. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck _ . 

_ “10-13! 10-13! Officer’s been shot. Bitterman Houses, northside entrance.” _


	4. Chapter 4

_ “10-13! 10-13! Officer’s been shot. Bitterman Houses.” _

Reaching for my glock once more, I attempt to scan the rooftops, fire off a few shots, but I have no target. 

Then moving in low, I get to him. “Vinny, come on--” I urge, slinging an arm around him and I start to drag him away, bullets still flying over our heads in this barrage that doesn’t seem to stop.

My breath rushes out hard, his weight limp in my arms as we get behind a concrete ledge along a set of steps. Panting, I prop him up a little, running my hand across his uniform to inspect him. “Where’re you hit? I question.

"Reagan!" Officer Jones makes his way up to the steps.

My frantic gaze follows the spattered trail of blood along Vinny's cheek until his head starts to drop back and I see more pooling from his collar. His wide, dark eyes meet mine, looking for an answer. 

My hand finds the wound on his neck, and I press against it. And I know it's probably only half a second that I just stay there, crouched in front of him, frozen, but it feels like half a second too long.

I hear Jones behind my back shout, "Call a bus!"

A sharp inhale snaps me back. "We're taking him!" I call. 

"Reagan we should wait for EMT."

"No, we gotta go now!" I insist. _What the fuck?_ He knows an ambulance will take too long to respond at this block and St. Joseph's is around the corner. 

Jones nods in agreement and moves in to help me lift. "Alright, come on."

Luckily we didn't go too deep into the complex or else we wouldn't have been able to carry my partner to the curb where Webber meets us with the RMP. Considering the circumstances, it's a swift maneuver between the three of us to get Vinny into the back and I climb in with him. "Go!"

Sirens blaring, Webber rushes us down the avenue, covering the streets in blue and red light while he blasts the horn.

"Vinny, look at me. You're gonna be okay. Vinny, look at me." I chant the instructions on repeat like an order. Hunched over him in the backseat, I hold pressure to his wound, low on the left side of his neck near his clavicle. He's conscious, but it's fading as the effort to fight slips away from him. 

"Hey! Hey Vinny." My free hand clutches his jacket. "You're here with me, alright? You got this. Stay calm."

_ Stay calm. _ I don't know what kinda idiot advice that is but remembering to keep from panicking could save his life. I try to fixate on the little things that can, and nothing else. I won't let my mind wander to the statistical realities of surviving a shot to the neck. I do what I can to manage the blood loss, keep him alert, and hope Webber gets us the fuck around the block in the next ten seconds. 

We reach the hospital and our car flies into the ambulance bay. I let go of a breath I'd been holding for who knows how long when I look up and see Jones rushing out of the car to meet the medical team who hurries with a bed to transport Vinny. 

And then it's all so fast. What had seemed like an eternity from the moment he got hit is suddenly hyperspeed and I keep up for a moment, relaying what I know of the gunshot, point of entry, and estimated range.

"Officer, we've got it--"

"Okay, but when he fell, he may've--"

"We need to take him straight to the OR." The doctor touches me in the center of my chest as if to restrict me from coming any farther. "We're gonna do every thing we can."

Then all I can do is nod and repress the sick swell that grips me from the inside. 

***

“I’m headed down the hall for a cup of coffee. Want one?” Officer Jones stands in front of my seat where I’m tucked away in the back of the critical care unit waiting room. 

All I can do is scrub the towel I was given after attempting to wash the blood from my hands against my palms. “No.” I shake my head. “Ask me again a few hours from now.” 

With a nod, he heads off across the hall.

My phone sits on the chair beside me, next to a bag that holds my bloodied uniform shirt, tie, and jacket. I glance over when the screen illuminates with a message. Picking it up, I see that it’s from my brother.

_ “Just got home with Linda and the boys. Any news?” _ It says.

They were having Sunday dinner at my dad’s house when all of this happened. My family knew I had picked up this extra tour so they weren’t expecting me to join the meal. And when I made the phone call shortly after I got to the hospital, Danny was the one I decided to dial.

“ _Not yet_ ,” I type.

_“I’ll be on my way soon. Think you could answer a few questions?_ ”

“ _Probably_.”

“ _K. We’re praying for Vin, alright?_ ”

I back out of the message window and contemplate my next move with a deep inhale. Holding my phone, I toggle over to my list of contacts. My thumb grazes the screen, dragging the names up and down until I land on _Bella Salcedo_ and I choose her profile.

Opening up a message to her, I swallow my nerves. What would Vinny want me to say to her? Would he want me to say anything? I have no answers so there’s no point in even reaching out.

Maybe it’s selfish, but I type anyway. For some reason, talking to her about it seems easier or more cathartic than talking to the other officers who have been here with me for the last hour.

_ Hey, do you have a minute for me to call you? _ I write and press send. 

I haven’t talked to Bianca since Noble and I broke up. And it’s only a few seconds later that my phone screen lights up, her name on the call. It takes me a moment, but I tap the green _Accept_ button.

“Bella--” I start, my voice low before I clear my throat.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Already, she’s curious. It’s not like we call each other about anything so she’s got to assume it’s bad news. 

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah. I just got home from work. Why?”

I glance up. There’s no one else in the waiting room. Vinny’s mom and sisters went outside to the garden atrium and his dad’s down in the lobby, probably fielding phone calls. 

Her voice nudges me. “Jamie.”

I manage another deep breath as I sit up straighter. “I’m at the hospital. Vinny was shot.”

Immediately, she gasps. “Oh, my god!” 

“He’s in surgery. I hardly know anything.”

“So he’s alive?”

“I don’t--” My jaw clenches and I press my lips together before I answer. “The situation is… it’s not good. But I don’t--”

“Jamie, oh my god!” She says again. “How? Where was he--?”

“On a call we got," I explain. "Shots were fired from high up. One hit him in the neck, sort of from the side--”

“His neck.” I hear her exhale hard with this squeak to her breath.

“We got him to the hospital as fast as we could,” I tell her.

“Fuck,” she mutters in a weary sigh. “What do the doctors say? What’s the surgery? Is it--?”

“A nurse came by once, so far." I blink a few times and my breath is shaky. It doesn't fill my lungs enough and there's a flicker of panic there that I try to ignore. "Um. She said his pulse was detectable. And best case scenario would be that any obstruction to his airway, and damage to major arteries was avoided. It just… depends on the path of the bullet as far as the extent of injury."

She's quiet for a few seconds and then just offers a small, "Okay."

"But. That’s just a scenario. It'll be a while before they know."

“Oh, my god,” she repeats, this time a whisper. 

“I didn’t know whether or not to call you. I know things sort of ended, I guess. As far as me and…” I stop myself, closing my eyes as I tip my head down to rest it in one hand. “Well. You know.”

“ _ Hell yes _ you better call me, Jamie Reagan,” she insists. “Holy shit, I would’ve never forgiven you.”

Sadly, I exhale this tired little laugh. “Vinny really cares about you, so-- I feel like he’d be okay with this phone call.”

“So what are you doing? Just waiting?”

“Yeah. Probably talk to the detectives soon about what I know of the shooting.”

“They didn’t catch the guy?”

“Not yet.”

“Son of a bitch,” she murmurs. 

I nod faintly, leaning back in my chair. “You’re right about that.”

“Well… how long until you get an update from the doctor?”

“I don’t know.” I swallow, glancing around like any minute now the surgeon is going to materialize out of thin air with news that’ll either alleviate this uncertainty, or completely gut me.

“I mean,  _ hours? _ Or less, or--”

“I have no idea. I’m just here. I’m waiting, I’m not leaving.”

“Jamie.” She sighs my name and takes a few quiet beats where I only hear her breath.

“I’ll text you whenever I know any more. Okay?”

And after that, we end the call, but hold onto the hope that I never have to deliver that one message we’re not ready to face.


	5. Chapter 5

“You should go home and get some rest, officer.” The doctor advises, offering a sympathetic nod of his head just before he leaves me, heading down the hall. 

I expel a heavy breath and it untangles the knots inside of my chest a little. Turning back to my waiting room chair, I pull out my phone once more. 

I check my latest message exchange with Bianca to see if there are any texts from her. She hasn’t responded, even when I sent her an update a couple hours ago that Vinny was still in surgery and let her know we were at St. Joseph’s.

I type out another:

_ He’s out of surgery and in ICU now. No word on when he can have visitors but doc said surgery went well. _

I hit send.

All the other officers have gone home. The night had dragged on. Danny showed up to get my statement and brought a bite to eat, along with a spare t-shirt for me. My father arrived with his detail and his DCPI, spoke with the doctor, then met reporters just outside the hospital entrance. 

I sat with Vinny’s dad for a while and it felt good to see so much of Vinny in him. He was somber but strong, a rock for his girls, assuring them their brother’s a fighter. 

After hearing the latest from the doctor, Vinny’s parents take a walk down the hallway and I contemplate whether to take the advice to go home.

My watch -- the one Noble gave me -- shows it’s almost midnight. I need to get out of here but I doubt I could sleep.

My phone buzzes as I stretch my shoulders back and I look to see a new message from Bianca.  _ We’re here _ is all it says. 

Here?

My gaze flicks up, around the quiet waiting area. She can’t mean  _ here _ here. And who’s  _ we _ ? 

Suddenly my heart’s hammering. I feel the thud all the way up my throat, the instant heat beneath my skin. 

I’m still scrutinizing her text when I hear Bianca’s voice. “...I think it’s this way…” Then oncoming footsteps. “Jamie!”

Glancing over from my seat, I watch her halt her determined path when she sees me. “Be--” I start, but then my voice just freezes in confusion before I rise to my feet. “What are--”

She rushes over and wraps me in a hug before I can really question her. 

“We got on an eight o’clock flight,” she says, squeezing me. “And came straight here. I had to, Jamie.”

“Wh--” I attempt, looking past her shoulder as I hold her around her back. And then Noble trails in, a few steps behind.

My grip on her loosens and it feels like everything inside me descends and sinks through the floor. All the air leaves me, I can’t seem to find any. But my gaze won’t move off of him to even try. 

“Hey,” I manage, the word escaping me in the mere one breath I have left.

Noble pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his thumbs resting over the edge. The angle of his jaw moves slowly as he chews a piece of gum while he seems to assess me. A worried shine in his gaze, he hesitates right there at the start of this waiting room alcove, as if to remind me he's only here for his sister.

“I saw your text in the cab,” Bianca speaks up. “So surgery went okay, they said?”

“Um--” I clear my throat and try to focus on her, taking a step back. “Yeah, they said the um… bullet trajectory was atypical, so… it missed any vital structures,” I explain. “So… in that sense, it’s what we were hoping for.”

She nods, her bright blue eyes scanning while she seems to process that. “Yeah,” she exhales, allowing a half smile. “Wow. That’s… good news, I guess.”

“They want to give him overnight to rest. So, I was actually going to head home. Come back in the morning.”

“That’s promising. Oh, my god if I could see him in the morning, that’d be such a relief,” she muses, resting a hand on her chest. “I might have to take something so I can sleep.” She blows out a soft laugh and allows herself a deep breath as she combs her dark hair back behind her shoulders. “Well what about you, huh? How are you?”

I shrug, instinctively glancing to my own arm. I’d been seen by a nurse when I first arrived for the wound near my shoulder from the bullet that grazed me. But the black t-shirt I’m wearing covers the bandage. “I’m fine. Just… spent the last ten hours second guessing everything we did today.” Faintly, I shake my head, tensing my jaw while my mind wanders someplace far for a moment. Then I scratch my nose as I turn away, and mutter, “If I’d realized sooner what we were setting ourselves up for. Or if I’d been faster, cut the corner before that gate--”

"You can't do that," Bianca reasons softly.

Walking over to the chair I’d been in all night, I pick up the empty coffee cup from the floor and pitch it in the nearby trashcan. "Yeah well I can question myself or question… a much greater entity and I don't have that kinda insight right now--"

“Jamie--” Noble’s voice saying my name is like a searing hot iron, branding the center of my chest and I don’t expect it. 

He steps closer, as if to intercept me from any more pacing or distraction methods. “Will you go easy on yourself?” He murmurs, his head tilting until his eyes meet mine. “And I’m really sorry.”

“Noble--” It slips out in a whispered scoff.

Now I'm kind of pissed that they're here. That  _ he's _ here. For months, he’s all I’ve wanted. He cut me off hard and fast and with perfect fucking logic. And now he’s just here, in the middle of all this, and I’m supposed to… what?

“I’m gonna…” Bianca cuts in. “Find a bathroom. Don’t go anywhere.”

I just assume she leaves because I can’t look anywhere else but this man in front of me. “Why’d you come?” I wonder.

Broad shouldered, he tempts me with the clench of his throat at the undone button of his steel blue dress shirt. I don’t know if I expected him to look worse, less himself somehow, without me. But I’ve been infatuated with that face, the way he looks at me, since the moment I met him so who am I kidding? I will always be affected by him.

“She wanted me to.”

I can’t decide if that’s what I hoped he would say. So I nod, swallow hard, about to tell him I was just leaving when he glances down.

As if driven by something outside of his control, Noble lifts his hand to trace his fingertip right at the edge of my t-shirt sleeve along my biceps. With a faint graze across my skin, he inches it up and my pulse practically combusts.

His brow furrows when he sees the corner of the bandage. “What’s this?”

My gaze follows his hand as I barely manage to breathe. This close to me, the faded scent of him lingers between us -- the peppermint laced with his usual warmth that I could never forget and it makes my throat feel tight. 

“Nothing,” I tell him. “Just a shot that missed.”

His eyes darken when he lifts his lashes and looks at me. 

I don’t know how much talking I can do with him here. There’s months’ worth of questions unanswered. I pry open that latch now and I’d be getting into some crossfire that I can’t handle. Not with him. Not when I’m this spent. Damaged and empty. It’s all I can do to keep from breaking apart with him standing right in front of me. 

“I’m gonna come back tomorrow,” I decide, then clear my throat. “And hope he’s up for visitors then.”

“Stay with me tonight.” Noble's low, smooth voice buzzes down my spine.  _ Fuck me _ .

But I don’t even flinch when he invites me. It’s as if my whole body expects it.  _ Feels entitled _ to it. I merely challenge him with a hard gaze, an attempt to chip away at his, until I see that faltering flicker of doubt in stormy green eyes.

I sniff, just the slightest tug at my cheek. "You serious?"

“I have a room at The Bowery hotel,” he adds, quickly glancing up and away to ensure it’s still just us. “On the Lower East Side. Room eight-oh-five.”

I could question what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, telling me to come over, all things considered. There’s no pretense, some innocent act he could play off like he just wants to catch up or keep me company. That's not what he's after. 

And right now this aching pull I feel for him yanks in the hollow of my core.

It’s fleeting and wrong and stupid and I want it. 


	6. Chapter 6

I arrive home from the hospital and shower the day off, let the steam cloud my head and the water scald my conscience. An hour ago, my only desires would have been to fall in my bed after this. But now it’s an entirely different story. I have a single objective and that’s to get to Noble’s hotel room and let him fuck me until my mind goes black. 

I don’t care that it's one a.m. I don’t care that I need sleep and that all of this is bad judgment. I’ll suffer the consequences, what does it matter anyway?

The Bowery hotel isn’t a far drive from my apartment. Tugging the hood of my sweatshirt up onto my head, I glance up at the cool brick exterior on my way down the block. Of course this is where he would stay, even on the fly. Bypassing the dim, cozy bar that’s still humming with a late night crowd, I head straight for the elevator.

On the way up, I stretch my chest and slide my hands into the pockets of the jeans I’m wearing. At the eighth floor, I step out, my eyes darting down the quiet hall before I turn the corner in search of 805.

After a few taps of my knuckle on the door, Noble’s quick to pull it open. I take maybe a second to get a read on him, on the more than enough buttons left undone on his shirt. My gaze antsy, I can practically feel it flashing as I step inside and close the door myself.

My impatient mouth meets his, hot and fast before I grip his sides and move around him until I’m backing him up against his own closed door.

He hums into the rush of my kiss before his hand comes up to squeeze my face, stopping me. “Hey, hey--” His hushed voice eases my shaking breath.

I press my lips together, tasting the tease of him while I attempt to settle my focus. “What?” I breathe.

His grip on my face loosens and he strokes his thumb along my cheek, his other hand pushing the hood off my head. “Jamie.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” I whisper, my forehead meeting his. “Please.” 

I can’t talk. I can’t say what he wants me to say. I can’t figure out the right answers. 

He just stands there between me and the door, his chest rising and falling with air I can tell he’s trying to control while his fingers drag through my hair.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he tells me.

I tilt my chin up until my heavy gaze rests on him. “Then why’d you invite me here?” 

He just looks at me, concern flinching his brow while he considers an answer.

Glancing into the room, back over my shoulder, I smirk. "Don't tell me you made dinner and just want to get to know me in the middle of the night." The attempt at a joke doesn’t get a smile out of him.

"I asked you to come over,” he starts. “Because I didn’t want to  _ just _ see you at the hospital.”

My fists tighten on his shirt at his sides and I lean in, my tongue grazing the hollow of his throat before I touch another kiss there and mumble, "Me neither."

He angles his neck to draw back a little. "And I need to know you're okay."

Inhaling deeply, I finally release my grip on him and turn away, further into the room. I push my hands up my face in frustration and then lace my fingers to rest them on top of my head. "I'm not okay, but suddenly it matters to you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you left me, Noble. And you haven’t spoken to me since January. I just had to accept it because it was what you needed. And now all of a sudden, I owe you some kind of reassurance that I’m okay?”

Noble comes closer into the room. “It’s not like I stopped caring about you.”

A hard exhale blows out of me. “I’m not okay,” I repeat with a shrug. “So now what? Are  _ you _ fucking  _ okay _ ?”

He puffs this humorless laugh and glances away. We just kind of stand there for a quiet moment, either too tired to get into the real problems, or reluctant to make them worse.

Noble starts toward me, thoughtfully dragging his hand down his jawline. “Do you remember…” He starts with a rasp. “After you took me to the hospital? When I nearly OD’d.”

Chewing on my own bottom lip, I watch his while I attempt to follow this line of thought. “Yeah.”

“I probably made a hundred phone calls trying to track you down,” he goes on. “I didn’t even know you.”

My gaze falls down his neck as I offer a faint nod.

“And yet--” He continues, moving even closer. “When I got scared. And felt like we needed to end all this and I ran, you couldn’t be bothered to send one message.”

I tuck my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt and furrow my brow. “You told me not to.”

His head tilts. “You were supposed to see through that and come find me anyway.”

“Now you’re playing games,” I accuse. 

He nods slowly and glances away as he scratches his nose. "Just fucking hurt, that's all," he murmurs. 

I remain there, giving him time to elaborate but he doesn't. Then he looks at me, something changing in the way his focus sharpens. He advances again until he’s standing over me and I sink back a little, propped against the edge of the writing desk along the wall. My head eases back and I gaze up at him but every movement of my body feels so fucking heavy. 

He’s right. I guess I never realized that instead of fighting, I chose to back down and let go, not knowing he was waiting for me to save us.

An ounce more guilt, of fault, of my own regret, and I’ll shatter right here. My voice is almost burned out when I mutter, “This is why I didn’t want to talk.”

My body craves him in one very specific way. But it’s reluctantly appreciative when he simply wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest.

Letting my face rest there a moment, I breathe him in. The way he smells does everything to me, oh my  _ god _ . It almost revives too much inside me that I’m not ready to feel.

He slides his hand into my hair and lets his head dip beside mine, just holding me.

I cannot exist in this pause, though. Under different circumstances, I’d hold onto this moment to just be still with one another, but right now I hate all of this room for breathing and thinking.

I feel his face tip down before his lips touch my ear. He kisses me there and my heart might give out from the heat of his breath. Another kiss lands right below my earlobe, then further down, tracing the heavy thud of my pulse with his tongue.

“Ah, fuck,” I whisper as I tilt my head back.

Noble stops there and props his head against the base of my throat.

I’d give anything for him to obliterate every feeling I’ve had to endure since the moment he left me standing there in my bedroom.  _ Make me feel nothing but you _ , I want to tell him. I know he can sense how badly I need it.

While he’s angled in front of me, my fingers find the buttons on his shirt and I start to undo them. My cue prompts him to push my sweatshirt up where I’m wearing nothing underneath, pulling away just enough to get it over my head before he dives back in to taste the skin he just uncovered. 

I shove the shirt from his shoulders, drag it off his arms. Then he flings it to the floor before his hands reach up to hold my face. 

He baits me with a promised kiss that’s merely a brush of his mouth, then his tongue at my bottom lip. If he thinks he’s tormenting me, he has no idea how much I can take.

When he lets his mouth fall on mine, I groan low into the weight of our kiss. I straighten up, easing myself off the desk as I stand taller and press against him. I pull him closer at his back, digging fingers into firm muscular paths there. Then my hands drag around his waist where I tug the button of his jeans.

Without any more discussion, we move to get the rest of our clothes off, leaving shoes and pants on the floor until we're pulling each other onto the bed. 

We haven't gotten out of our boxers yet when Noble comes down on top of me, his mouth finding mine once more. The weight of him feels so fucking good. The tease of friction when he grinds into me, between my open legs is almost enough to consume me. 

But I need all of him. I grab at his back, desperately seeking out the curve of his ass to tug him harder against my body. 

His hand grasps my hair, holding my face for a moment before skimming the sides of my neck. And when his touch falls down the length of my arm, I can’t help flinch with a sudden inhale when he brushes over the soreness at my shoulder.

Noble breaks the kiss when he feels the bandage, his attention drawn to my arm. The both of us just sort of look at it, heavy breaths escaping between us.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine.”

Gently, he leans his forehead down and touches it just above the wound. “No, it’s not fine.”

“I’ve been hurt a lot worse, trust me.”

He glances up, thick, dark lashes lifting to reveal those green eyes that spark with a heat I can practically feel.

He sighs, dragging his face into my neck. My head falls back. I can't help relenting to all the ways he touches me. 

Eventually the low hum of his voice cuts in, “We probably shouldn’t.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a two-fold warning here before you dive in. First is a typical explicit content warning (there hasn't really been any so far in this installment, but whoa-ho here we go). And I want to put an additional warning out there to prepare your mindset for angsty, rough sex that might leave you feeling uneasy. It's not to an extreme degree, but it's sort of on a different level, emotionally and physically, than most of my other smut. If you're easily affected, just know that before you proceed.

_ "... We probably shouldn't." _

I exhale a disappointed rush of air. “You serious?”

"This isn’t any kinda solution--" Lifting his head, Noble's gaze falls to my mouth and I watch him swallow. "To just fucking  _ go at it _ … after everything."

"I don't care." I decide, reaching for his waist and pull him closer. "I wanna forget it all anyway."

He rocks against me in response, licking his own bottom lip while his eyes search mine. “What do you mean?”

“Noble,” I breathe out, discouraged, and run my hands up the hard swell of his arms. “Right now this doesn’t have to  _ mean _ anything. Can we just-- can we just fuck like nothing means anything?” Holding the backs of his shoulders, I lean up for another kiss.

He lingers there a moment, undeniably intrigued by my request. Then he eases away, breathless, his brow knit. “So what, you want to fuck like strangers?” He wonders. 

"No." Faintly, I shake my head and lick my tingling lower lip. “Fuck me like I hurt you,” I tell him in a spent breath before my mouth touches his once more. 

Pulling back a little, Noble focuses on my face, green irises darkening in foggy confusion. “What?”

“Please,” I sigh.

I notice his hesitant swallow before he props himself over me, his hands on either side of my shoulders. But then his resolve sharpens in the way he looks at me. 

I arch back a little and just wait. I know if I want him to take over, I have to shut up. 

Peering down, he questions me, “You want it rough?”

I nod. The offer alone makes my cock throb.

He lowers himself against me, stroking his hard-on between my legs, along my straining shaft. Torturing me with the delay, he drags the tip of his nose across my throat. “Jamie,” he whispers. “I could never hurt you.”

I stretch my neck, restless beneath him. “I want you to.” 

After a deep inhale as if to consider it, Noble eases back a little, grasping the waist of my underwear to pull it off as he goes.

I’m too eager already and when he tosses my boxers aside, I sit up to pursue him. "Come here," I murmur, laying a hand on the side of his neck for another kiss.

But my attempt is stopped short when he pushes me away at the center of my chest. "Turn the fuck over."

I cough out a moan as I fall back and without another thought, I comply with his orders, turning onto my stomach.

His strong hand urges me down at my shoulder blade and I feel him adjust for a moment as he draws himself out of his boxers. There’s the tease of his shaft as it strokes between my cheeks. The easy sensation alone already makes me start to melt, sends flickers of heat through my pulse, straight to my groin.

And then the sudden  _ crack _ of his palm when he smacks my ass prompts a shameless groan in my chest. He jerks my hips up and back before I can even process the sting that lingers on my skin. There he rubs me, squeezing a handful of one asscheek, parting me open a little. 

I rest my forehead on the bed. I’m so desperate for him to touch me, my nerve endings are buzzing. 

Reaching around me, he grasps my cock with an all-over grope of his hand, down beneath my balls before his grip slides back up my shaft with a squeeze.

“Ah, oh my god,” I mutter, tipping up onto my head while I just get lost in the feeling.

His other hand still massages my ass and I hear the low, appreciative groan in his chest when he spreads me some more, draws a fingertip between my cheeks and teases the tight opening that begs for him.

I feel him lean in before his mouth is on the back of my hip. He kisses me there, traces his tongue further back before his teeth close on the curve of my ass.

Normally I would laugh at the move, flinch and tell him to watch it. But instead I just give in to it, holding firm against the instinct to retreat when the bite pricks me. The pain combined with the torture of his mouth being so fucking close to where I want it most has my head swimming.

I’m on the verge of asking when he pulls away and another smack of his palm on the other asscheek nearly makes me choke on a rush of hot air.

“Did that hurt?” He wonders, grabbing me there with a soothing grip.

I consider it for a moment as I manage a deep breath. “Yeah.”

He just sort of exhales this low note of a laugh before I feel him back off the bed. “I could really leave my mark all over you in case you were thinking about letting anyone else back there.”

I remain in my position. Head down, ass up, forearms propped on the bed. If I stay like this I don’t have to think about anything else.

“I haven’t,” I mumble. “I wouldn’t.”

“You haven’t?” He questions.

“No.”

He seems to be pleased with that response when a little grunt of satisfaction echoes behind me. I hear him searching through his bag and when he comes back, the weight of him sinks the edge of the bed. Then his touch is on me again and I feel one slicked fingertip massaging my opening. “ _ Ah god damn _ ,” he whispers. “I’ve missed this ass, Jamie. It’s so fucking perfect.”

A shaky moan rattles in my throat from the faint touch.  _ Jesus _ .

I won’t ask if he’s been with anyone else. I honestly can’t. I know myself, I’m a jealous little shit. The idea that he’s been inside anyone else, or  _ damn _ even kissed someone else, makes knots tighten inside me.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to take me as rough as you think you want, then. It’s been too long.”

“I can take it,” I tell him as his fingertip slips into me. “Especially now.”

“Mm-hm.” He hums like he doesn’t believe me. “Have you been practicing on yourself? And thinking of me?”

“Yes.” 

My quick answer earns me a gravelly moan and more of his finger.

“Thinking of the way I used to fuck you?”

“Yes,” I tell him, pushing my forehead into the blankets. My hand grips a fistful of the comforter and I tilt my hips down, wanting so badly to pump into my own fist but I hold off.

“The way you could come so fucking hard, untouched?” He continues and he slides up the length of my back, still working his finger inside me, teasing the rim of tight muscle with the tip of a second one. “When I wouldn’t let you touch your own cock and you’d still come all over yourself?”

All I can do is nod, pushing back against his fingers.

“All over me?” He adds.

God damn, he’s gonna finish this just from his hand and his obscene mouth. “Ssshit,” I hiss into the bed. 

He goes on, working me open with slippery fingers while his mouth moves down the trail of my spine. "Mmh yeah, that's it," he whispers, feeling the way I start to loosen up. "Damn baby." 

My mind goes hazy and I feel myself grow relaxed and pliable from his slow movements. I moan loud when his fingers sink inside and connect with my prostate, the sensation spiraling through me, my thighs trembling.

" _ Oh _ , my god, Noble," I sigh into the bed. "Please fuck me."

Desperate, I reach down and grasp my dick. I'm so hard it hurts so I squeeze a little at the base to ease some of the pressure.

Then he slides away from me and I exhale, disappointed and start to sit back, rising up on my knees.

“Ah--” Noble stops me. “Stay right there.” He had moved away to retrieve a condom. Quickly, he covers himself with it along with a generous amount of lube before he makes his way back to bed. “Who told you you could jerk yourself?” He questions as he kneels behind me. Before I know it, he reaches around to grab my wrist and knocks my arm away

Nearly defeated, my head tips back with a wounded little groan.

“Nuh-uh.” He dismisses the attempt, shoving between my shoulderblades until I tip over once more. I catch myself on my hands in a hard exhale and he follows in behind me, his chest on my back. "This is for me," he decides in a breathy growl and reaches around to close his fist around me. 

He plays with me, slow and wet just like the hungry kisses he's leaving on the side of my neck. The sensation makes my eyes flutter shut. His breath on my ear, heat on my skin, it all surrounds me while he teases my opening with the head of his dick.

Already, a loud shaky moan breaks loose from me that the next room could probably hear. I could come before he’s even inside me, I’m  _ that _ on-edge.

I’m on some other level of pleasure that I’m not used to, or haven’t felt in a long time and it’s almost like a trance. Like I can’t feel anything, but I feel everything. I don’t fucking know, but when he stops stroking me, he’s all the way inside me, and it’s so intense it makes me light-headed.

I’ve been zoned out on Noble’s slow, rumbling groans, steady breath, and murmured praise as he works his way in, planting his hands on my hips. He holds still a moment, sliding his palm up my back, then back down to squeeze my ass.

“How’s that?” He asks.

“More,” I manage, resisting the temptation to push my ass back and just start fucking his cock.

He starts to withdraw. “More?” And then he drives in on one deep stroke.

The move makes my whole body shake as I abandon a heavy groan, burying my head. “Fuck.”

He does it again, pulls out before slamming back in with a perfect merciless stroke and then keeps going, quickening his pace as he buries himself in a few slapping thrusts.

This is everything I want. For him to fill me this hard and fast that I can barely keep up. To just fucking wreck me until the circuits in my brain burn out. 

He slows down. I hear the hum of his quiet, low moans, all long shaky breath that he's trying to steady. I can tell by the hiss of air he sucks through his teeth while he kneads my asscheek in his hand that he’s trying to keep himself from coming.

I’m impatient, though, and I push back against him, initiating a faster pace.

With a ragged moan, he clamps his grip on my ass so hard, a spark of pain diverts my concentration. “Ah, god damn,” I grit, letting my head fall back.

And then he’s one step ahead of me when he yanks my hips to him and starts to pump faster. His hands coast up my sides before he grabs onto me between my neck and shoulders. Easily the rhythm picks up as he holds me in place there, fucking me out of my mind. The smacking sound of his body against mine, the steadfast creak of the bed is all but muffled by how fucking loud we both are.

His grip digs into my muscles. He moves his knee out to prop one foot on the bed, changing his angle to go deeper. But it’s too much for him to handle and I know by the urgency of his sounds that his orgasm is about to snap. In a hard grunt, he tells me he’s gonna come just as he reaches around to squeeze my shaft.

_ Jesus fuck _ . As soon as he treats me to one stroke, I shoot off all over his hand. My ass tightens around him in a pulsing, black-out, shattered finish. 

It takes an endless moment before I hear anything but my rush of breath and the frenzied thud of my heartbeat. It’s a slow adjustment as Noble draws himself out of me and I collapse to the bed.

Neither of us says anything. It’s just panting in echoed time. 

He’s the first one to move, but my awareness of him is distant. It’s as if I’m still floating around in the surge of brain chemicals. 

As my breathing levels off, the exhaustion finally catches up and I can hardly move. Without thinking about it, I let my eyes close. The last thing I sense is the absence of Noble’s weight from the bed and the sound of a door closing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the angst. :\

Startled, I blink my eyes open, lifting my head to find I’m still in this hotel bed. I can’t tell if I slept for hours or merely started to drift away only to snap awake after a few seconds. 

I feel new, chilled air in the room and all I hear is the metallic  _ flick, flick flick _ on the other side. The oversized window on this old building opens inward, unlatched. There I see Noble propped against the side of the frame, a cigarette between his lips as he tilts his head to light it. He's wearing only a pair of sweatpants, the rest of him in near-blackness except for the lingering lights of apartments across the street.

I start to sit up, rubbing fingertips across my forehead, squeezing a little to dull the sensation of a swelling headache.

He doesn’t say anything. I don’t even know if he notices that I’m up. 

Realizing I’m still naked, I move to get off the bed, and pick up my boxers off the floor before I head to the bathroom. 

The space between us is tense. I don’t wake up feeling at ease or unwound. I’m just cold, almost sick, and full of regret.  I take a few moments at the sink to see if the feeling passes.

But I should have known that the way I just distracted myself with Noble was temporary. The damn red slap marks on my ass’ll last longer than the fleeting gratification I was able to achieve. 

Back in my underwear, I splash my face with water and push a hand through my hair before I make my way out.

“What time is it?” I ask, not sure what else to say. Reaching for my wrist, I rub the absence of my watch. I’d left it at home before I came here and it feels weird to be without it.

Noble's hand drops to light up his phone on the small table in front of the window. “Almost two-thirty.”

I exhale a breathy laugh of exhaustion. It’s like I hallucinated this day, it’s felt like some goddamn fever dream. Crossing the room, I find my pants on the floor. As I grab them, I glance up to see Noble shift to watch me.

“You heading out?” He wonders before a drag from his smoke. There’s a twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips, then he slowly exhales toward the open window and adds, “Did you get what you came for?”

I tilt my head as I hop into my jeans. “Noble, come on.” 

“You’re not gonna stay?”

I just look at him as I tug up my fly. “And what? Make the morning that much harder?” 

He’s got to know this was far from some reconciliation. After considering it, he merely shrugs one shoulder and focuses on the tip of his cigarette that absently rolls along the rim of an empty glass in his hand. “Fine. If you need to go, go.”

I’d find the almost shameless petulant moment irritating from anyone else, but fuck, I love him. I’m  _ still _ in love with him, I never let that go. I don’t know how to and I wish that I could. Then maybe we could ease into some just-friends arrangement where we could still be in each others’ lives, and all of this concern for our future wouldn’t be an issue. But it seems if that’s an option for us, we’re nowhere near it.

Slowly I approach the open window where he stands, urging it aside a little more so that I can join him. The ledge is about chest high and I lean in to peer down at the street below. 

“I called you,” I start, then sniff a sad little laugh and add, “on Valentine’s Day.”

“I know.”

I glance over. “You didn’t answer, you didn’t respond.”

“I know,” he says again. “You didn’t leave a message, so…” He closes his lips around the cigarette for another drag and lets the smoke carry away the rest of the sentence. 

“I didn’t want to just… say something in a message,” I explain. “I was worried. I wanted to hear you.”

“Worried about what?”

“You. Just like you were worried about me today,” I reason. “Is that allowed?”

He straightens up taller, easing his shoulders back as he looks at me. His gaze falls a little and then he swallows, like he’s summoning some sort of resolve. “What, so I tell you I’m fine and then you can sleep at night? Or…” He studies the glowing orange tip of his smoke while he hesitates. “Or I tell you I’ve fallen into a K-hole and can’t remember my real name -- what would have been the better answer? Let’s face it, what difference does it make one way or another?”

I turn toward him. “It makes a big difference.”

“Like you said when you got here, we don’t owe each other that reassurance anymore.”

“That’s bullshit, Noble,” I mutter, then clench the back angle of my jaw before my brow furrows. “Then why are you here, huh?”

“Why’d you call Bianca?” He shoots back. “Why’d you  _ really _ call her?”

My gaze narrows, the question -- the implied accusation that I just called her as an excuse to get to him -- catching me off guard.

“Because if you weren’t sure Vinny was going to survive,” he goes on. “What good does it do to call her and put her through that when she’s a thousand miles away until you have hard answers? And if you knew he was going to be okay, Vinny could have made the decision to call her himself--”

“Oh, fuck off--” I groan, pushing away from the window. “Don’t fucking question me about that decision, it had nothing to do with you.”

Noble just makes this disbelieving face as he turns to face the city, the angles of his cheeks more defined as he sucks another drag.

I move away to find my shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. “You’re really gonna bring up Vinny?”

He spreads his hands with a shrug, exhaling a hard stream of smoke out the window. “You asked what I was doing here. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t called Bianca.”

“You know, I don’t get it. You tell me how bad I hurt you because I didn’t chase you to Miami, even after you explicitly told me we couldn’t talk anymore, that we had to be totally cut off. And now you’re telling me the only reason you’re here is because of your sister and you owe me exactly nothing when it comes to the truth.” I feel the heat in my chest that he suddenly ignites without even trying and I hate it. He shuts down and it sets me off. “What do you want from me? Because I don’t think I can win here.”

He nods toward the bed. “Well it’s pretty clear what you wanted with me.”

“I was honest about that the minute I walked in the door,” I insist. “You could’ve told me to get the fuck out. I’m not the one playing games.”

“Great. Congrats,” he murmurs dismissively.

“What, have you been using again? Why are you acting like this?”

This scoff puffs out of him and he glances away with a shake of his head. “Wow. You’re gonna judge me for the way I process  _ my _ shit considering whatever… score you were settling with yourself just then.” He gestures to the bed again. “I mean that didn’t even feel like you. I don’t know who I was fucking over there.”

My eyes cut to the side and I utter under my breath, “Well, that wouldn’t exactly be a first for you.”

He nods in acknowledgment of the low blow. “Nice, Jamie.”

Getting to my feet, I head for the abandoned sweatshirt on the floor and scoop it up. “I wonder when you’ll ever be able to distinguish judgment from someone genuinely caring about you.”

With another shake of his head, Noble flicks his cigarette butt out the window, a stream of smoke escaping his lips before he leans back and latches the window closed. “Yeah, I wonder that too.”

I tug the sweatshirt on, pushing my arms through the sleeves as I start toward the door. “Go to sleep, Noble,” I tell him. I grasp the door handle and with nothing more to say, yank it open and make my way out.

Thankfully, it’s not a long wait for the elevator and I manage to get the doors closed before I can even hope I’d hear a voice telling me to wait. There’s nothing but dead, empty silence that follows me through the sleepy hotel lobby and into the desolate street. 


	9. Chapter 9

“I gotta talk to Sarge about who you'll be riding with, man. It takes a real kinda talent to be your partner, Reagan.” 

Sitting back in the nearby chair on my day off, I never thought it’d feel so good to hear Vinny talk to me, even spouting his usual brass, from his hospital bed. The morning after his surgery, I was able to pay him a visit after he had a few moments with his parents. Foggy from his meds, but off the ventilator and breathing on his own, he was happy to be awake and out of the ICU.

“Whoever it is,” he goes on, “has to put up with your crap, while making you look cool, and that’s a rare combo. Not just anyone has my gifts.”

I can’t help but grin at the dig. “I’ll ride with whoever ‘til you come back. But there’s not gonna be a new partner, Vin. I won’t accept it.”

His gaze shifts to me. “ _ If _ I come back.” 

“Stop.”

“Doc said it’ll be at least a year until I’m back in the bag.”

“I’ll be there," I assure him. "When you're ready to come back. For now you're gonna take it easy.”

Vinny blows out a slow breath through puffed cheeks and a tap at the door redirects my attention.

I look and see Bianca cautiously peer into the room from the doorway. “Is it alright if I come in?” She wonders.

“Oh man, these are some good drugs, Reagan,” Vinny groans. “They got me hallucinating some kinda beautiful stranger.”

With a roll of my eyes, I sigh, amused that he carries on this shit even in his state.

Bianca giggles, making her way closer to his bed. “You don’t remember me?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” he murmurs, a smile on his face as he watches her approach. “Come here.”

Carefully, she rests a hand on his shoulder and leans over his head, leaving a kiss there. I know she had reached out to him earlier this morning so he wasn’t blindsided by her arrival. 

“I’m really happy to see you,” I hear her say as she strokes a hand down the side of his head.

“Thank him.” Vinny lifts his hand enough to point my way. “He’s the reason you’re not making funeral arrangements.”

“Cruz, I didn’t do anything but sit in a waiting room for ten hours while the doctors did all the work.”

“You guys had the quickness, though.”

I manage a grateful little half smile. At least I can acknowledge that we made the right call because I heard if much more time had passed before he arrived, we may not be having this conversation right now. “Always, man.”

Bianca’s touch slips down, under his forearm to hold his hand. “The nurse out there said she’d never seen a patient who was as much of a fighter as you.”

“Ah, see I told her to say that,” he jokes. “I said ‘if a blue-eyed little Italian girl comes looking for me, make sure you tell her I was a real badass in surgery’.”

“Mm-hm,” she hums with a smile. “Well I believe her.”

Pushing out of my chair, I grasp my jacket and decide to leave them alone. “I’m gonna step out.” I point to the door. “Vin, I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Jamie,” Bianca calls out. “Wait for me out there, will you?” Then turns to tilt her head toward Vinny. “I know you’ve had a lot of visitors and I can’t stay long.”

I look at them both and offer a short nod. “Sure.”

With that, I head out, closing the door to the room behind me. I make my way down the hall, around the corner to the nearest bench. When I pull out my phone, there’s a text notification that I had missed while I was in the room. 

There’s a heat low in my throat from merely reading his name. Just seeing that it’s from Noble and the message bubble itself is long, it’s like I have to look away for a second. I have to get my head in the right space to even understand it. 

Leaning back a little, I tap the screen to read.

> _**Look, I’m sorry about last night. I feel like a dick, provoking you like that when you’ve been through a lot. That wasn’t the right time to bring up any of it. I should have just been there for you. That’s what I wanted to be, and I tried. But I guess there’s still some leftover anger, or unresolved… whatever. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. My bullshit is the last thing you need on top of everything that’s happened.** _
> 
> _**Whether or not last night was a mistake, it doesn’t matter. We have to part ways, but I didn’t want it to be with that as our last conversation. You deserve much better than that. What we had deserves better than that and it shouldn’t be the note we go out on.** _
> 
> _**You know what you mean to me. That hasn’t changed. A lot of times, I wish it would - that I’d wake up one day on the other side of this, finally free of that ache. Just dull, pleasant memories as I move forward, no regrets, feeling nothing. Eventually, I'll get there I guess.** _
> 
> _**Anyway I'm done. I just wanted to say I’m sorry and let you know that even though we had to end things, you're still there, somewhere around my mind, all the time. But for me, you always have been, right?** _
> 
> _**You don’t have to respond. I hope you stay safe.** _

And that’s how he ends it. I let my gaze roam over the words again. The warmth in my gut starts to burn when I realize I haven’t been breathing and I finally take in a chestful of shaky air. I darken my phone, set it aside, and stroke my hand across my brow while I process what I’m supposed to do with all that. 

My memory rattles back to a conversation Noble and I once had in his car. I had visited him for the first time in Miami and as he drove me to the airport, I questioned him:

_ “If we couldn’t have this-- Us.” I had wondered. “Would you rather just be acquaintances… or nothing at all?” _

I remember the flinch on his brow while he drove. _ “Why are those our only other options?” _

_ “Aren’t they?” _ I reminded him.

And after a thoughtful moment, he shrugged with his answer.  _ “I’d have to go with nothing then.” _

“Hey--” Bianca’s voice snaps me out of the daze and I glance up, lifting my head from my hand. “Thanks for waiting. He looks so good, doesn’t he?” She smiles in relief as she approaches the bench where I sit.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, it’s pretty impressive.”

“It felt good to see him.” She sighs deeply. “Thank you, by the way. If you hadn’t acted so fast, stayed with him the way that you did… they say the blood loss and the shock would have been--”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell her. “He would’ve done the same for me.”

“Well--” She looks at me a moment as she reaches down and gently squeezes my shoulder. “You wanna get some breakfast? Or you got work?”

I push up to my feet. “I’m off today.”

“Let’s go then,” she offers. “At least get out of here.”

Wordlessly, I nod and follow her across the hall. We make our way down the elevator and find the doors that lead us outside.

“I don’t really know this neighborhood,” Bianca notes.

I point up the block. “There’s a diner up here on the corner.” 

“Sounds good.” After a few steps without any conversation, she starts again. “So what happened last night?”

Dropping my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, I look at her. “What do you mean?”

She simply tilts her head to offer me a face, a crooked eyebrow not buying my clueless act.

I have to exhale in amusement as I lift my shoulders. “What?”

“I know you came to see my brother.”

“Okay. Yes.”

Shaking her head, she folds her arms across her chest as she walks. “Jamie.”

“What, I should have told him no? When he asked me to come over?”

“Hey, if there’s anyone who wants you guys to make it work, it’s me. Trust me.”

“I wish that it could work.”

She kills a few seconds with a deep breath. “He refused to come with me this morning. He claims he just wanted me to have time with Vinny on my own, but-- And then he told me you came over last night and it didn’t go so great.”

With a scoff, I approach the door to the restaurant before I grasp the handle. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s complicated.”

As I pull open the door, she flashes me those eyes and reminds me, “Look who you’re talking to.”

“Do you have all the answers? Why don’t you tell me what I’m supposed to do?”

“Acknowledge that it’s not hopeless, for starters.” We seat ourselves at a corner booth near the window. Discreetly, she glances around the diner, over her shoulder before she brushes some hair out of her eyes.

“Everything okay?” I check.

“Yeah.”

“I never claimed it was hopeless. I never insisted on no contact,” I clarify, glancing up to take the menu when the waitress approaches. I order a water, Bianca a coffee, before she leaves us. “You might want to check with your brother because if he thinks I feel that way, it’s not because of anything I said.”

“I’m not taking sides.”

“There’s no sides.” I scan the menu even though I’m not hungry. When the waitress returns, Bianca orders an omelet and I just ask for some wheat toast. “But what I said, and what he thinks he heard from me are two different things.”

Her coffee is set in front of her and Bianca leans forward to pick a packet of sweetener from the container on the table. “He made the decision it was hopeless before you got the chance to say it first.”

I just watch her, processing that assumption. “It’s fair to say that,” I murmur. “Why’s that on me, though?”

“It doesn’t matter who it’s on,” she insists. “You think I don’t give him ten times this amount of grief?”

I laugh softly. “You’re really helping things, then.”

With a smirk, she shakes her head while slowly swirling a spoon through her coffee. “By now, you know how he is. If he senses that someone he trusts is gonna… turn their back on him, his defenses go up. He’s always been like that, but when we relocated, it was like, he’ll cut someone out fast and not look back. That’s kinda the way it had to be.”

“I know. Which is why when he told me…  _ clean break, no texts, no trying to keep in touch- _ -” I lift my shoulders helplessly. “I had to. If he was dead-set on ending this, on there being no solution, then that had to be the way.”

“He’s not dead-set on ending it, you dumbass!” 

My mouth parts open and I cough a short laugh, caught off guard. “Wh--”

“You think he’d ever be able to cut you out? My whole life,” she continues, “I’ve never seen Noble so in love with anyone the way he’s in love with you.”

I scoff, turning to glance away. It’s like I won’t let myself hear it. “Come on,” I mutter.

“Not even close, Jamie.”

Pressing my lips together, I set my gaze on her. “I didn’t doubt the feelings he had. I know.”

“The feelings he  _ has _ . No past tense,” she insists. “You telling me it’s one-sided?”

“Of course not,” I say quietly. 

Bianca sips from her coffee and lets a wordless moment pass before she speaks up again. “He got scared. And he put up that wall because it’s all he knows. And I’m not saying it’s on you to climb over it. But just know that if you did, he’d still be there.”


	10. Chapter 10

“You!” Ben exclaims as soon as I pull open the door to my apartment. 

I take a step back, letting out a soft laugh. “Hey.”

“I brought carnitas from Rosa’s.” He holds up a large paper bag by its handles, then a six-pack. “And beer.”

Tempering my innate urge to tell him he didn’t have to do that, I just smile in appreciation. “Come in. And nice choice.”

“I need you to tell me everything,” he announces, breezing past me. “Starting with: are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

Apparently earlier in the day, Bianca had told Ben -- a friend we had all gotten to know a couple of months ago who easily became someone I kept in touch with -- what happened with Vinny. Then he reached out to me, and even though I was exhausted from it all, I told Ben he could swing by to check in. His promise of bringing dinner didn’t hurt.

“Bella said Vinny pulled through like a champ.”

“He’s tough,” I assert, leading Ben through my kitchen. “He’s gonna be alright.”

“Did they catch the guy who shot him?”

“They’re rounding up some suspects, but--” In an upper cabinet, I reach for a couple of plates. “Not getting a lot of cooperation.”

“I can’t believe he got shot in the neck and he’s going to be okay,” Ben muses, helping to get our food out of the bag. Then he stops to take off his jacket before he fixes the shirtsleeve cuff at his forearm. “That’s some kinda miracle.”

“Well--” I mutter. “It won’t be that simple, but. We’re pretty lucky.”

“Sorry,” he sighs, moving toward the fridge. He sets the beers inside but grabs two for us. “You’re probably sick of talking about it.” He twists a cap off one and sets it on the counter for me, then opens his own. 

“Thanks. No it’s fine, it’s just--” Then I pause to exhale a spent laugh. “The days are running together and I can’t remember when I last slept.”

Ben just looks at me, a sympathetic quirk of his cheek.

“But--” I continue after a pull from my beer. “These tacos look good so I can’t complain. Let’s eat. In the living room. I’ve got too much crap up here.” I gesture to my countertop stacked with papers, books, and packages I haven’t sorted through.

“You got shot at yesterday.” He follows me out of the kitchen as we carry our plates and drinks. “And I binge-watched Game of Thrones and didn’t put on real pants, so. You can kick me out if you just want to chill with your tacos alone.”

“Stop,” I groan, taking a seat on my couch. “I’m not kicking you out.”

“Okay good because I need to know what the hell happened with Nick.”

I cut Ben a sideways glance as I kill time with another sip of my beer. 

“Jamie.” 

I swallow and exhale a hot breath. “What do you mean what happened? You know what happened. We broke up. Nothing’s changed.

“But he’s here. _Is_ here? Was here?”

“Not _here_ -here,” I clarify, nodding my head to the side to indicate my apartment. “But he came to New York with Bella.”

“And you saw him.”

“Yes, I _saw_ him,” I answer, then repeat, “But nothing’s changed. Don’t get excited.”

“Okay but _how_ was the desperate anger sex? Was it like--?”

Nearly failing to swallow the bite I’m chewing, I turn my head to cough into my fist so I don’t choke. Then I look at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You guys banged last night. That’s obvious,” he states it like he’s establishing the facts of a case.

I blink hard. “It’s obvious?”

“Am I wrong?”

All I can do is chew my food, setting my telling gaze on him.

Ben laughs. “You have the worst face!”

Shaking my head, I exhale in amusement. “Thanks.”

“I mean the worst poker face.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I utter. 

“This is how I am, I’m sorry. I just like you guys. And I know the break-up sucked.”

Ben doesn’t know the full story. He doesn’t know about my undercover or that Noble is in witness protection. He thinks we just ended things because of the distance, clashing on how serious we considered our relationship which I guess is half of the truth.

“Did you want something to change?” He presses on. “Like when you saw him last night, did you have hopes that you guys would talk it out?”

I shake my head while I think. “I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to… talk.”

A laugh rumbles in Ben’s chest before he lets out this weary groan.

I can’t help but laugh too, feeling the heat begin to reach my cheeks. 

“Did you spend the night?”

“No.”

“Damn!” He chuckles. “You hooker.”

I lift my shoulders. “We got into a big argument. I wasn’t going to stay.”

“Ugh.” Ben groans. “So the sex was bad too? I hate that.”

Chewing a bite of my food, I quirk an eyebrow and murmur, “No, it definitely wasn’t bad.”

With another dramatic groan, like this story just keeps getting worse, Ben sets his beer down hard on the coffee table. “Jamie!”

“What?”

“I just needed to believe the sex was bad so that I don’t cry about you two. That way, I at least could help you move on.”

Sorry to disappoint him, I offer a shake of my head. “That was never a problem for us.”

He reacts with a tip back of his head before he reaches for his beer again. “You’re making me thirsty. Please tell me more. I love when people sleep with their exes. It’s so stupid.”

Amused, I indulge his need for discussion on this. Who the hell else am I going to talk with about it? “It’s stupid either way,” I decide. “Because it’s like, if the sex is bad then… it was bad. And if it’s good, then there goes that. You know?”

“Just a reminder of what you’re not getting anymore.”

“Thanks, that’s depressing.”

“Well… don’t let that dick hypnotize you,” he points and I have to just close my eyes and let him pontificate. “Because you’ll keep getting hurt. And you’ll never get anywhere.”

“That’s it. His dick hypnotized me,” I deadpan, narrowing my gaze as if it’s some legitimate revelation. “That’s where I went wrong.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. But I’m single as fuck so if I had an ex with hands that big who came rolling through town, you can believe I’d be showing up at his hotel room. No shame.”

I have to laugh, taking a break from my food to lean forward and set my plate on the coffee table. Scratching my brow, I try to tame the knowing grin from threatening my cheeks. “You’re such a dumbass."

With amused appreciation, he smiles and takes another drink. He seems to think about it for a moment before he reaches in his pocket to pull out his phone. "Listen, if you're telling me it's really over, I'll respect that. And sometimes, what's best is to get under someone else. To help you reset, you know?"

"What?"

He glances over at me, eyes shifting low and back up in a quick assessment, then adds, "Or on top of someone else. You could surprise me."

Rolling my eyes, I laugh anyway. "Ben, I don't know if you're my type, man."

"Oh shut up. You wish, babe," he teases, turning again to his phone while he scans the screen. "I'm talking about finding some floozy on Grindr."

"What's Grindr?"

"Oh, Jamie." He sighs. "I forget that you're new to the team. It's a gay dating app. Or hook-up app, really. Because most of these boys are trash. But I've found a few good times on it, too. So let's look..."

"Dude." I chuckle. "I'm not meeting anyone from some hook-up app."

"I know. You got it good last night so you're not in the mood. But. Let's say you need to get it out of your system with no drama and big arguments attached. Who do we have?" He types and taps on his phone screen a few times while he scrutinizes whatever he's searching. "You like Brooklyn or Manhattan guys?"

I shake my head with a smirk and simply reach for my beer.

"Either, whatever." Ben decides. "Let's filter. Body type. Do you like a masculine top? A power bottom? Do you like scruffy guys? Are you into bears? What about like, a jock-ish twink--"

I just blink a few times before I feel my brow pull together in confusion. "I don't understand anything you just said."

"I do love a nerdy bear, sometimes," he muses. "You know?"

"I don't know." Adjusting on the couch, I prop my arm on the back and rest my head on my hand while I observe him. "But this seems like a very detailed process for you so I'm just going to watch and learn."

"Younger? Older?"

"What about, _has a job_?" I suggest.

"No-- Jamie." Ben shakes his head dismissively. 

"A clear criminal record. No Patriots fans."

"Oh my god," he huffs at the hard time I'm giving him. "You're missing the point. There's no need to get to know them on that level. It's about getting off."

"I can take care of that myself."

"Oh but what's the fun in that?"

"What's the fun in a hook-up with some random nobody who may or may not try to kill me?"

"You'd know if they were some kind of murderer," he explains. "Most of these guys are just horny and desperate."

"You're not selling me on this."

"Let's look at some bios." Easing back on the couch, he gets comfortable, swiping through a few profiles. " _Alright-looking dad interested in guys between the ages of eighteen and nineteen only_ ," Ben reads. " _Please be discreet and like being photographed_."

I make a face. "Ugh."

"Next," he goes on. " _Looking for safe anonymous sex, three-on-one. No face pics. Just walk in and tag-team my hole_."

I nod like that one’s a real winner. "Is that your bio?" 

Ben cackles and swipes again. "Oh here, I found your soulmate: _I'm not looking for anything. I'm not into anything. Fuck off_."

"That's someone's profile?"

"Yeah."

"I like it."

" _No old men. No young pervs. No fatties. No uglies. No lazy bottoms. No offense_."

I grin. "Damn." 

"Well that counts me out," he murmurs. Swipe. " _Just here to fuck around. No bullshit. If you're not at least eight inches, don't waste my time_."

I glance over. "Oh, you found me." 

Another laugh escapes him and he tips his head back, pleased. "You size queen. I knew it."

"Me? You're the one obsessed with Nick's hands."

Ben cuts me a look. "We're not talking about Nick right now."

"So what does yours say?" I wonder.

Without looking at me, Ben's scruffy cheek curves up with a little smirk while he continues to scroll through his phone. "I delete the app pretty frequently but right now it says _Unabashed ass man. Likes to cuddle_."

Letting my head fall back, I crack up. "Shut up."

He shrugs. "It's true."

"And this works for you? You meet guys this way?"

"It's usually a cycle of horniness combined with not wanting to deal with the dating scene, a lot of self loathing, then excitement when you finally match with someone who seems like a hassle-free lay, and then after, the self-loathing again. So, it's not perfect,” he recounts. “However, the best head I ever got was with a guy off this app who I never saw again. It's a gamble. But boy… the mouth on him."

I can’t help the little interested twitch at my eyebrow. "Really?"

"He'll always have a place in my heart."

"Did he cuddle with you?" I tease.

"A little, yeah." Ben chuckles. 

"But you never met up again?"

"That’s just how it goes," he contends. "And I'm not some slut. I don't sit around prowling Grindr every day."

"I didn't judge."

"And really, you're way too good for any of these guys. I only suggested it as a way to help clear your head if you're trying to get over an ex."

“Yeah, I think for me, too many potential cons outweigh the pros.”

“Imagine the same thing you did last night, minus the drama and the fighting. The guy leaves and you just get to go to sleep,” he proposes. “Not a bad deal.”

I look at him. I can feel the conflicted slant on my face as I consider it. But the thing is, what happened with Noble last night, I wouldn’t do with just anyone. He’s the only person I trust on that level, to be intuitive to exactly what I need, no matter how misguided or reckless, without exploiting it. I couldn’t let go like that with anyone else and I don’t think I ever will. 

Ben speaks up again. “Can _I_ imagine what you did last night, minus the drama and the fighting?”

An unexpected laugh puffs out of me and I rest my head back to glance at the ceiling. 

“Alright, alright,” he groans with a smile, accepting that I’m not going to take the bait and find myself some random hook-up as a means to move on. “You’re still in love with him, I get it.”

I let a deep breath expand my chest. “Yeah.”

“At this point… do you know what you want? Where do you guys go from here?”

Pressing my lips together, I slip down along the couch cushion and rest my beer bottle on the plane of my hip while I think about it. “I want to fast forward,” I say. “I want to get past this part and be with him, whatever that looks like, whether it’s here or there. But I want him in my life… in every part of it, you know?”

Ben doesn’t say anything until I eventually shift my gaze from the label of my beer and glance over.

“Do you want me to fucking cry? Oh my god.” 

I laugh softly.

“Have you told him this?”

“I tried. When this was all… breaking apart the last time he was here back in January, I told him I wanted to make it work. But he left.”

Ben seems to consider it as he shifts beside me, averting his gaze while he thinks. “You can’t fast forward,” he decides. “Right? This is the hard, shitty part, but you’ll never get there--” He points off ahead of him, to this supposed future. “--If you let it end here.”

Slowly I nod, processing his logic. 

“I need another beer.” He pushes himself off the couch. “You want one?”

“Sure.” I sigh, then I call out to him,“Maybe I’ll just go the dying alone route.”

“See I’ve accepted that for myself,” he answers, making his way to the kitchen. “But it doesn’t hurt to get some good random blowjobs along the way.”

Lifting my beer bottle to my lips, I drain it with a hearty gulp and consider what move I’m willing to make next.


	11. Chapter 11

Why am I still up?

Slouched against the pillows in bed, I mindlessly browse the channels on my TV looking for I don’t know what. My sleep is all fucked. 

Ben had left around ten and I was looking forward to finally passing out in my own bed. But all I did was lay here and re-read the text Noble had sent earlier eight hundred times. I started to type out an equally lengthy response, and then I’d just lock my phone back and toss it aside, dissatisfied.

I glance at the clock, offended that it’s just past one and I’m still awake. Looking at my phone once more, I press my lips together. Before I can talk myself out of it again, I snatch it back, illuminating the screen in the darkness.

Adjusting, I push myself up a little and find Noble’s name to call him. It’s late, but oh well. Why end my bad decision streak now?

I wait for the endless ringing until his automated voicemail message. But instead he answers after what seems like a confused pause. “Jamie?”

I'm not expecting it when this rush of heat suddenly comes over me. “Hey,” I manage.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I assure him quickly. Of course a phone call at this hour would make any normal person panic. “Yeah, I just… sorry. I know it’s late. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I’m up.” After a moment, he exhales a quiet laugh. “I don’t know why. But I am.”

I reach up to scratch the back of my head and I smile at the sound of his voice. “Neither do I. But… I can’t sleep. And now I'm nervous." The random confession just sort of escapes me and I feel the warmth in my cheeks, and in my chest as my heart pounds just from having him on the other end of this call.

"Nervous?" He chuckles. 

"I don't know. Like I'm calling a boy that I like for the first time."

He laughs even harder and it feels so good to hear it. It's been forever. "Oh my god."

I laugh too, rubbing a hand across my face. "I'm just saying."

"That's pretty cute. How often is this happening for you? These nervous phone calls to boys you like?"

"Well obviously not often at all if just the sound of one answering makes me all uncool. It's like I'm twelve all over again trying to talk to Theresa Mancini,” I recount. “And I was like, sweating hoping that her dad wouldn't answer when I called their house."

Noble's loud when he cracks up. "Jamie." He drags out my name in a weary groan. "Well that's kind of how I felt sending you that text."

"That my dad would read it?"

"No--" He coughs in amusement. "Nervous about sending it and then waiting… oh, I don't know, twelve hours of nothing from you--"

"Wai-wai-wait." I squint. "First of all, your text said I didn't need to respond."

"Yeah, but--"

"This is like you telling me we can't have any contact, and then getting angry with me when I didn't contact you."

He just groans his acknowledgment of my point.

I don’t intend to wind him up into some kind of argument like last night, so I smirk. "Do you see how I might misunderstand?"

"Okay, you're right. Fair enough."

"No. I didn't-- that wasn't why I called,” I tell him. “I called because I’m sorry, too… about last night. I was just--”

“I know. Don’t apologize for that.”

I wish I could tell him that after everything that happened yesterday, he was all I wanted. And I’m angry that I didn’t have him there, to air my frustration about the shooting, to assure me everything was going to be okay, to lean on and know he didn’t expect anything from me. But I’m afraid to bring up what I _don’t_ have with him anymore in case it opens those same wounds from last night.

“How are you feeling?” He wonders.

Between the bullet graze, the fact that my partner was nearly killed right beside me yesterday, lack of sleep, and some pretty aggressive sex that left me sore in a way that still lingers, he could be referring to any number of things. I think his question was intentionally vague.

I sigh heavily. “Feeling… feeling,” I murmur, as if it’s a new word I’m trying out. “What a concept. I don’t know.”

Noble sniffs a sympathetic laugh.

“I’m alright.”

“You giving me the fake answer you give everyone else?”

“Well… I complain and I’m an asshole, right?”

“No. Come on, Jamie.”

“I feel--” I rub my hand across tired eyes. “A lot of guilt. Selfish. I feel drained. You know, it’s like all my sense and supposed good judgment and… perspective-- I’ve depleted all that. And I’m running on garbage fumes of like, my worst character traits.”

“Jay--” He says his nickname for me in an affectionate breath. “Your worst character traits are probably anyone else’s normal ones, first of all.”

“Well--” I mutter, closing my eyes.

“But I know you have high standards for yourself,” he goes on. “Which is admirable.”

“Until I fall,” I finish for him.

“That’s why I like a low bar,” he teases. “Just in terms of… y’know, integrity. Not as much height to fall from.”

A little laugh puffs out of me. What I wouldn’t give to curl into Noble’s chest and fall asleep to the rise and fall of his steady breathing and low hum of his voice.

His tone sobers. “I think you’ve been through a lot. And so I think feeling drained, having all this self-doubt is normal. I mean, what’s the right way to feel about all of that? You know? No one would come out on the other side of this feeling… accomplished.”

“I know.”

“The guilt gets to you because you’re a good person and a good cop. You can have all the protocol and training, but then circumstances shift, and there’s a variable you never predicted, and you still did exactly what you’re supposed to do. And Vinny’s alive, and you’re alive…” He pauses to exhale this sort of scoff. “And you’re probably the least selfish person I know.”

My chest tightens just hearing this unexpected thread of encouragement from him. It’s not what I called him for, but it feels good to hear it from someone other than my dad or my sergeant or someone obligated to give me the you-did-what-you-were-trained-to-do pep talk. I press my lips together before I speak up. “I don’t know, I was pretty selfish with you last night.”

He seems to stammer a bit on what part exactly. “In like, a hot way, yeah.”

I let out an unguarded laugh and my eyes fall closed at the memory. 

“Or you mean the argument part?” He adds. “Because I don’t have a problem complying with your selfish demands when we’re naked.”

Smirking, I shake my head. “Noble.”

“Look, I’m joking because it’s not worth beating yourself up over,” he says. “But yeah, the whole thing didn’t exactly… sit right with me. But that’s just because I miss you. And I could tell you were battling something, and… if that’s how you needed to deal with it, in that moment, then so be it.”

“Well, I am sorry about the whole… way we left it.”

“Me too.”

I just nod faintly, as if he could see me.

“What about your ass, did I leave slap marks there for real?”

Sliding down into the pillow, I sputter another laugh before I turn my face into it. “Yes,” I admit there.

“Did I? Shit.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not funny!” he chuckles. “I feel bad. That’s not my style, man.”

“I asked for it,” I insist.

He makes a clicking sound back behind his cheek. “You slut,” he murmurs the tease.

“Yeah right.” I grin, shifting again onto my back for some new air and I settle my arm comfortably behind my head. “I probably could be, though. Remember Ben? He came over tonight and I got… quite an education.”

“You-- what?” The dismay spits out of him so fucking fast.

“No--” I start. “Not like _that_.”

“God damn,” he sighs in apparent relief. “You about gave me heart failure.”

“Oh _what?_ ” I practically squeak the last word and my brow furrows at the idea that he’d have some objection to me getting together with anyone else. “Like I’d hook up with Ben?”

“Well I don’t know. Would you?”

“No,” I answer. _But so what if I did?_ I want to ask. _I’m available now, remember?_ “But he was scoping out Grindr for me, which I’d never heard of, so now I know about that. And can’t unsee some of those profile pictures.”

“Oh, Ben’s being _that_ kinda friend, huh?” Noble supposes. “Finding you a rebound.”

“I told him I was not interested. So he backed off,” I explained, pausing a beat as I mentally note the quiet turn Noble takes. “Mainly, I was just happy to eat the tacos he brought over and talk about something other than getting shot at.”

It takes him a few noticeably muted seconds before he speaks up. “Where were the tacos from?”

Amusement slowly curves onto my cheek. Only he would need to know that information. “Rosa’s Cantina.”

“Hm.” He hums like it wouldn’t be his first choice. “Decent.”

“Yeah,” I softly agree.

He stalls again. I’m not sure what my intentions were when I shared this with him. Was I trying to remind him that I can have dinner with someone who’s made it very clear he thinks I’m attractive? That I can get back out there, screw someone if I want to, get off with someone, if I want? Maybe. But I can’t help assuming he’s been indulging in whatever vices that’ve perked his interest too.

“Trying to make me jealous?” He wonders.

“Of _Ben_?”

“Well, he’d jump at you if he had the chance.”

“Please,” I answer with a dismissive groan. “If Ben had it his way, all he’d want is... hidden camera footage from our hotel room last night for him to jerk off to and that’s about it.”

This makes Noble break his strong stoic act and crack up. 

I smile. And the two of us settle into a conversation that carries on far longer than I imagined it would. Veering away from petty jealousy, the talk returns to tacos and inevitably, food: what Noble’s been cooking and eating lately (nothing very inspired, he admits). He laments the latest home repair he’s had to deal with (replacing warped boards on his deck), and we even get into some car back and forth when he tells me about the leak on his driveway from his old Land Rover. 

“All I know is it’s green,” Noble recounts.

“It’s antifreeze,” I tell him. “Probably a leaking hose and those are easy to change. But you want to find it because eventually, your engine could overheat.”

"Alright," he agrees. "I'll look in the morning. Which… probably isn't too long from now."

I can't remember the last time I was on a call like this. Where the screen of my phone grew got against my face. Where I actually put it down on the bed to go take a leak rather than just ending the call, because we'd be right back, neither of us ready to hang up. 

But strangely it felt… platonic, almost. Not distant, but like, normal and easy without this longing undertone beneath everything we say. Maybe maintaining some sort of friendship with him is possible. 

I tell myself that, even though the soreness in my cheeks from smiling, and the flips my stomach attempt when Noble’s voice dips into that off-limits inflection betray me. 

"I know." I pull the phone away to check the screen and the time. "My battery's about to die."

“Um.” He pauses to breathe out this sort of sad laugh. “Well it was good… to be able to actually talk to you. I miss it.”

“Yeah. I needed it.”

But it’s awkward. This is still over. And if one of us is expected to argue that it’s not, I wouldn’t know how. So _‘I’ll talk to you later’_ doesn’t seem like what I’m supposed to say.

“You can call me any time,” he tells me. “I promise I’ll answer.”

All I can do is nod. But he can’t see me, so I add, “Same to you, okay?”

“Okay.” And his voice is soft before he leaves me, “Good night, Jay.”

I hesitate just a few seconds. “‘Night.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey, you guys’ve gotten a lot done.” Impressed by the progress on the classic soapbox racer, nearly complete on Danny’s driveway, I lean down to inspect it. 

My brother follows out his side door, coffee mug in hand, probably his second this morning. With a Saturday off for both of us, Danny had invited me over to check out the racer he’d been working on with his youngest son in preparation for the annual derby. That, and he needed to borrow my saber saw.

“Sean rigged those pulleys himself,” Danny points out. “It’s pretty close to finished.”

“Looks good.”

"I need Grandpa to ease up a little on the pressure.” He pauses for a sip from his mug. “He's gonna give Sean some kinda complex if he doesn't come in first and carry on the Reagan legacy."

"You sure that isn't  _ you _ putting the pressure on?" I squint one eye at him. "The possibility of the Bonniellos winning the Bay Ridge Derby title keeping you up at night?"

"Maybe. But I keep it tamped down for the sake of my son."

"Sean's your more easy-going one," I note. "I wouldn't worry about it weighing too much on him."

"You'll see one day with your own kids."

"How do you mean?" I wonder, lowering myself to the ground to sit beside the racer where I can get a better look at the axle mounts.

"All the… expectations of the  _ Reagan _ name."

I scoff. "I'm well aware. I don't need kids to understand that."

“It’s not earning you any favors at the precinct,” Danny notes. “How’s that desk duty treating you?”

After Vinny’s shooting a week ago, Sarge had me sitting down with the department shrink, a routine procedure after something that traumatic before I could be placed back on patrol. And while I probably could have lied, covered my own ass and said the clear-headed things they wanted me to say, I wouldn’t have pulled it off convincingly. So my gun revoked for safe keeping, it was modified assignment for me until further consultation proves I’m not going to pop off with an antsy trigger finger any time soon.

“I hate it,” I grumble.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I’m no stranger to it myself. You’ll be back when you’re ready. How’s Vin?”

“Supposed to be discharged in the new few days. As long as everything looks good, he’ll go home, rest, and start his recovery, physical therapy.” I list the next steps the way Vinny had relayed them to me when I stopped in for my visit the other day. 

Danny nods. "If we can get this witness to cooperate, we might be able to charge one of the Los Lordes’ top clowns. But so far it's looking a little flimsy."

He probably notices the far away stall of my gaze and feels compelled to offer me some superficial assurance. 

"We got eyes on that block twenty-four seven."

"I know," is all I manage. 

My brother crouches down beside the soapbox car, ready to change the subject. Examining the steering shaft, he peers closer at the cable reel behind it before he sets his mug on the concrete. "How are things otherwise? Even before all this, you seemed preoccupied or down about something."

Sifting through the open toolbox I anticipate the torque wrench he's about to need. "Shitty I guess." I’m just sort of absent when I say it. "I was seeing someone and that kinda blew up in my face. But it’s been a couple months.” 

With raised eyebrows, he turns to look at me. “See, I knew it. I tried to call you out on that months ago and you denied everything.”

“Yeah well that’s because that  _ someone’s _ a guy and I wasn’t quite sure you’d be able to handle that information. So I dodged.” I shrug and focus on tightening a random bolt on the seat. 

These confessions become easier when I just put it out there without any build-up or preface. For some reason, the fact that Noble and I are broken up cushioned the blow of telling my dad and it’s the same with Danny. As if whatever they say, I can refute with  _ it doesn’t matter, it’s over, _ buying me some sort of pass, shutting down their questioning, but still allowing me to present to them the truth.

“You--” Danny starts, his words pausing midair and I glance up to see the flicker of confusion in his dark eyes before he closes his mouth. Then with this downward pull at the corner of his lips, he just nods slowly, as if to process the realization and weigh it against past evidence, connecting the dots of this case. “Okay.”

I have to sniff in amusement. “Okay.”

“A guy,” he echoes. “What guy?”

“A guy.” My shoulders lift again. Shit, now I’m rattled. I feel the cool facade I was able to hang onto for all of two sentences start to slip away as a heat sparks alive in my stomach. “A guy named Nick.”

“A guy named Nick.”

“Stop repeating everything I say.” 

"You're dropping this on me outta the blue, Jamie. Give me a damn minute."

Swallowing a nervous gulp, I just wait without a response. The crank of the wrench filling the awkward silence. 

"I'm…" Danny hedges. "--Sorry about your break-up." He offers it with this questioning inflection that sort of amuses me. 

I look at him before a rumble of laughter rolls through my chest. 

"Look, I-- Hey." Defensive shoulders raise as his mouth parts, uncharacteristically lost for words. "I'm trying to say the right thing. I don't know."

"There's not a right thing to say.”

“Okay, well I’m trying  _ not _ to say the wrong thing,” he explains.

Nodding, I just turn a ratchet over in my hand a few times, pressing my lips together while I consider that reaction. “I appreciate that.”

It’s funny, my relationship with my brother. People might assume all the Reagans followed a singular course considering we both have that same blue DNA and an NYPD shield. 

But Danny was the first born, I’m the youngest, and growing up with two siblings and nine years between us left us to forge our own paths, sometimes losing track of the other. It’s rare we meet on the same one.

“I’m not trying,” I go on. “To put you to some kind of test. I don’t expect you to know what to say, or even feel like you need to have a reaction. In fact, I’d prefer you  _ not _ have a reaction. I just…” Pausing, I swallow hard again and exhale. “I don’t feel the need to make this big announcement like…  _ hey everyone, I’m gay. Update your records _ \-- y’know? And stare at you while you process it, like you’re supposed to have some big opinion.” I think about how I’ve never established the label aloud before, not like that, with an  _ I am _ in front of it. I’ve done enough inner analysis of where I fall on the sexuality spectrum and if that’s the identifier that’s easiest to wrap my head around right now, I’ll go with it.

Breathing out a nervous laugh at myself, I look at him to find this attentive stillness I wouldn’t expect from him. 

“Well…” He starts, his head tilting. “I do have an opinion. Of you. That you’re a smartass, numb-nuts, know-it-all--”

Closing my eyes, I accept the description with a nod and a low, appreciative chuckle. I should have figured.

“--And that remains unchanged,” he tells me. “Regardless of who you’re dating.”

I smile. “Okay, good.” I let the moment settle there for a few seconds while I drop the wrench I’m holding back in the toolbox. “Anyway, when I met this guy--”

“The one you just broke up with?” He clarifies.

“Yeah. I didn’t expect it to become what it did. And I’m telling you about it… because I might need your help.”

“My help?” Danny shifts, gathers the tools at his side to replace them in his toolbox. “How am I supposed to help?”

And so I tell him. I recount the night I ran into Noble Sanfino at a hotel pool party I was called to shut down. How we started talking, how we became friends, and then… just  _ more,  _ so gradually it’s like we didn’t see it coming. I told him about Miami and long-distance, and how  _ honestly normal _ it felt despite being such a complex system of landmines that we knew how to side-step. 

Then came Erin, and the talks we had about Noble moving to New York. The questioning about Tommy Messina, his parole, and ties to the Cavazerres. 

Danny just sits there on the ground, his hands tented over his nose as he massages his fingers between his brows. “Jamie,” he breathes out.

“The morning I brought it up to Noble,” I continue, plowing through this backstory to get him up to speed. Blinking, I remember to correct myself, “Or-- Nick. It turned into this bigger argument about trust and whether we could even do this.”

“This,” he echoes. “You mean have a life together in the city. You and this… made guy in the freakin’ mafia--”

“He’s not made, Danny. He never was, not even close.”

“Come on! His uncle ordered a hit on you. What are you, deluded?”

“They tried to kill him too.” I remind him of the shot Noble took to the shoulder.

“Oh, even better.”

“That right there tells you he was never made,” I explain. “So don’t throw around these generalizations when you don’t know the circumstances.”

“Goddammit Jamie,” he mutters. Inhaling deeply, he pushes himself up from the driveway and turns to pace near his car. 

I close my eyes and let my head drop. Attempting to center myself, I exhale steadily through my nose. 

Danny wouldn’t admit it, but he’s thinking about Joe right now. I know he is. The undercover investigation, criminal enterprise, the corrupt, but supposed  _ one of his own  _ who killed my brother. Joe was thirty-one, the same age I turned this year. And while seemingly unrelated, it’s all too close to home for Danny. 

“You know I have no problem with your personal life,” he announces. “Who you’re into, you’re seeing a guy, that’s your business and I support you. But then you tack on this last part like, _ oh by the way _ , and it’s a big damn deal, Jamie.”

I press my lips together until the sensation forces me present. “If I didn’t think it was a big deal,” I start, turning my gaze up to him. “I wouldn’t have laid all of this out for Erin. And Vinny, and Dad.”

“Dad knows?”

Getting to my feet, I brush off the back of my jeans and turn to ease my weight against the side of his Jeep Grand Cherokee. “Yeah. I told him a couple weeks ago.”

Danny blinks like he can’t believe it. 

I let out this almost incredulous laugh, dropping my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt. “You think I’d put it all on the line like this to you and everyone else if it wasn’t a big deal? If it was no big deal, I’d just keep sneaking around for as long as I felt like it.” 

He’s still quiet while he absorbs all of this, his brows quirking a little as the understanding seems to slowly settle there behind his eyes.

“Look,” I continue. “I’m not coming to you for permission. You’re not going to talk me out of anything.”

“Whoa-whoa-wait. I thought you broke up. Talk you out of what? So it’s not over?”

“The reason we ended things is that neither of us knew how to move forward together, how to make sure he’d be safe if he were to move to New York,” I tell him. “And I let myself just sort of give in that it was over. But that’s not what I want. What I want is for all of us -- you, me, Erin, Dad--”

“Grandpa?”

“Well.” I angle my head to the side, cutting my gaze, not quite ready to consider him yet. “For us to sit down, weigh the risks, with the understanding that…I want to be with him. That we’d have your support and you’d have our backs and if--” I stop for another swallow, clenching my jaw to steady my thoughts. But I’m not nervous, I’m worked up, unwavering, and it’s probably a mode he’s not used to seeing from me. “--If we decide those risks seem to outweigh… what we’re able to stand up to in this city, then… Then I’m probably looking at a move to Miami.”


	13. Chapter 13

Dinner convenes Sunday afternoon and it’s nothing particularly remarkable. 

It’s been a week since Vinny’s shooting. And the time had let the initial buzz of panic and opinions settle into a more clear-headed mindfulness among everyone that finally feels more normal to me.

After the roast, the pie, and the clean-up, Linda takes the boys home while Nicky occupies Grandpa in the sunroom at the piano. I’m not sure if that was at my dad’s covert request, but it’s understood that an after-dinner conversation between Dad, Danny, Erin and myself is on everyone’s agenda. And I’m not quite ready to loop my grandpa into this apparent ring of fire.

We retire to the living room, its subtle glow of dim lamplight bringing this sense of calm and familiarity that I’ve missed. But the calm only lingers so long once I decide to put it out there on the table that I’m considering a move a thousand miles away and want to solicit everyone’s input.

“Miami is a swamp with Lamborghinis,” Danny decides. “You’re gonna pay fourteen dollars for a beer anywhere you go in that town, and the Marlins are the laughingstock of Major League Baseball. Plus you’re too big’a dweeb to live there anyway. Who are you kidding?”

“Thanks, Danny.”

“Wait a minute,” Erin makes her way into the room. She offers me a short glass of bourbon and I thank her, then she sits beside me on the sofa with a glass of her own. “That’s hardly the criteria Jamie should be using to determine whether a move is a good idea.”

“I’m just saying.” Danny shrugs. “Not to mention, good luck with that transfer because from what I’ve heard, the Miami PD is one big fraternity and if you don’t run in the right circles, you’ll be chasing your tail at the bottom. You’ll feel like a rookie all over again.”

“Whatever. That’s to be expected,” I acknowledge. “Maybe I need to see what life is like outside of the right circles.”

With a low laugh, Danny scoffs. “I can tell you right now, Ivy League. You won’t like it.”

“Alright, Danny,” My dad chimes in as he adjusts in his chair. “Ease up.”

The three of us look at him, anticipating some sort of message that’s supposed to get us back on track. 

“Miami PD,” my dad begins, thoughtfully. “Is… fine. There’s a lot they do differently. But then again, it’s a different landscape.” Then he pauses there, his brow creasing as he moves to rest his elbows on his thighs. After a deliberate exhale, he glances over at me. “It wouldn’t be my first choice for you.”

I have to laugh, a good-natured puff of air. “I don’t think any of this is your first choice for me, Dad.”

“Well, no, I don’t want you to move,” he defends with a shrug. “All the way down there, to the other end of the coast. Of course not. Not big on the idea of you resigning from the NYPD--”

There’s an actual, unexpected, sting that flares in my throat when he says that.

He continues, “Don’t anticipate a lateral move. You’re talking about an entirely new playbook down there, different set of statutes--”

“Florida nutjobs, that’s what he means,” Danny pipes up. 

Ignoring that, I nod at my dad while I chew on my lip. “Cops do it all the time, though.”

“I know they do.”

I shrug. “Maybe I’ll make my law degree useful. I could practice down there.” None of this is being steered by some career dream I have for myself. All of those variables can change. The constant is Noble, and that’s what I’m chasing. My job and amenities of a different city aren’t going to determine my decision.

Erin lets out this uncomfortable groan. “You really want to take the bar all over again? No thank you.”

The mere thought of the bar exam triggers a scorching clench in the center of my gut. I scrunch my cheek in acknowledgement and mentally cross off that short-lived possibility. “Fair point,” I murmur.

“Look, Jamie,” Erin leans in. “We’re not shooting any of this down or trying to highlight the negative.”

“I am,” Danny says. “I’m shooting it down. I’m highlighting the negative. Miami is stupid.”

“Fine, what if it was--” my shoulders raise defensively. “New Jersey? Whatever.”

He grimaces. “That’s even worse.”

“The point is, Danny, that there’s someone I want to be with. That’s fact, that’s not changing. But the circumstances that surround him say that he can’t be here in New York. So if we’re somewhere else, then the problem is solved. It’s not about Miami, it’s about… _not_ being here.”

I finish with a purposeful sip of bourbon, appreciating the warmth that saturates the inside of my chest. 

“What if you both _could_ be here?” My dad offers. 

I simply lift my gaze, prompting him for more. 

“What if those circumstances that say he can’t be here… were adjusted?”

“Adjusted?”

With a contemplative tilt of his head, he adds, “Controlled. Retaining the Salcedo identity, of course."

My heart thuds, suddenly jumping around in my ribcage at the slightest notion of something good, some willingness on my father's part to make this real. 

I swallow hard to suppress my expectations. "Of course," I answer, the caution in my voice urging him, _go on_. 

"The reality is Witsec is for criminals,” my dad remarks. “Something like five percent are in the program with a clean record.”

I nod. I know this. Noble and Bianca were these rare cases where the move was purely to avoid retribution, mostly during the trial. But they aren’t the typical witnesses who have some criminal career to return to and are trying to avoid charges of their own in exchange for anything that’ll help the prosecution. 

“Assuming he doesn’t have unfinished business -- as Noble Sanfino -- to settle in New York, we’re talking a different state of affairs here.”

“But Dad, who’s to say--” Erin speaks up. “That he doesn’t want to come back and…” Her shoulders lift like she’s searching for a hypothetical scenario. “See a cousin? Go to the place that knew his coffee order?”

“Pay a visit to his old dealer?” Danny tosses it out there, averting his gaze as he raises his glass for a sip. 

My eyes cut over to him and I feel an offended tug at my brow. “Damn.”

“It’s a possibility, Jamie. Don’t get all bent outta shape. I’m allowed to ask the hard questions.”

I shake my head easily. I’m unwavering now. The cross examination can’t get to me. “They’re not hard questions. Nick doesn’t have any cousins in the area and he doesn’t have an old drug dealer.” I turn to look at Erin. “He’s from Florida, and that’s the way you’ve got to look at it.”

Erin gives me a head tilt. “Jamie--” 

“I know what you mean. But if he were to move here, it would be entirely under Nick’s identity, while acknowledging that he can have no contact with any part of his former life.”

“Except for you.” Danny points.

I shift my eyes to him. “Except for me.”

My brother holds my stare for a moment, not a challenge, but just thoughtful. He blinks away and eventually, starts to bob his head in acknowledgment. “I want this for you. Honestly.”

It’s solemn but genuine. “Thank you.”

“Do what you have to do. And if that means move, then hey, that’s life,” he decides, then gestures to my father’s chair. “But I like what Dad is saying. We’re not talking about someone who’s looking to come back, settle old scores,” he recaps. “This is different.”

“It reduces the risk significantly, that’s for sure,” my dad considers. “I think you make the choice and accept the risk. That awareness will influence your day-to-day actions here.”

“Just like with anything.” I utter. I nibble on the inside of my cheek while I think, turning my gaze to each family member in sequence before it lands on Erin.

There’s this earnest softness behind her eyes and I know it’s inner conflict fading the more she processes what this means to me. Inevitably, she’s the most cautious of the four of us and has often had to stand alone, calling out warnings from the sidelines while the rest of us gave chase despite the dangers. Sometimes she could bemoan that she told us so, and she’d be right. While other times our pursuit was worth it. 

Straightening up on the couch a little, she begins, “I just want to say that I’m more emotionally invested than the others.” She points her glass toward our brother. “Considering I’ve met Nick. And I’ve witnessed the two of you together.” 

Looking at her, there’s finally a flick of a smile that pulls my cheek before I tilt my glass for another sip.

She finishes, quietly echoing Danny’s sentiment. “And I really want this for you too.”

I swallow, vanilla warmth of the bourbon blooming in my chest before I inhale deeply. “Not that this decision will be made by democratic process, but I’d like to put it to a vote, purely for research,” I propose. “Miami versus New York.”

Danny lifts a hand. “New York all the way, baby.”

Erin laughs softly then tilts her head to look at me. “You guys should be here.”

I acknowledge the both of them as my mouth slants a little. I feel the appreciative flash in my gaze before I turn it to my dad.

He returns the look and simply offers, “It’s your decision, son.”

I lean forward to set my glass on the table before settling back. “I think my vote is for New York.”

"I want you here in New York,” my dad confirms. “You and him."

There’s a squeeze around my heart when he recognizes us together.

“That being said,” he continues. “Know that you’ll have to watch your back even more than you already do.”

I nod.

Then he finishes with his assurance, “But we’ll be there watching too.”

I let a quietly grateful moment sit there as I turn my gaze away, worried it’s about to get a little too shiny until Danny cuts in.

“Alright well that was heartwarming.” My brother clears his throat. “But can I ask the dumb question we’re all thinking?”

Shifting a look to him, I lift an eyebrow.

“You guys broke up,” he says. “So… what are we dealing with here?”

Erin enjoys this inquiry, I can see it in the curvy smirk that grows across her face. “Yes, is there a reconciliation in the works?” 

That damn intrigue in her voice needling me, I reach for my drink once more and hide the quirk of my lips as I tip my glass there. I take my time with a hard swallow, then pinch my lips together until the burn fades in my throat. “I’m working on it.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back with some mature content warnings and I'm happy about it. :)

Another Tuesday evening counseling session in the books. 

I’m honestly thankful I don’t have to do the large group peer-to-peer sessions. I know those help some cops deal with their trauma, but it’s not for me. Considering the nature of Vinny’s shooting, that no one was killed, the department has been a little more loose with me than they would be if my partner hadn’t survived. 

So instead, I’m supposed to see my counselor, Claire, one-on-one, once a week for four sessions until the end of my desk duty. 

This time, we hardly even talked about Vinny. I guess the vibe I was giving off was that I wasn’t interested in replaying the incident again, which was fine. 

We wound up unpacking what other kinds of pressures I’ve experienced over the course of my life -- from grades to parents to older siblings, death, panic attacks, law school, the uniform -- how they’ve all impacted my ability to process stress. I wasn’t about to open up any of those particular boxes for very long. Just enough to let her know I’ve experienced some shit.

And there was a moment where she tried to get me to go the _What about any romantic relationships?_ direction, but I don’t know Claire like that yet so I skated around it.

Feeling admittedly level-headed and collected afterward, I make my way home, picking up a salad for dinner from my favorite deli on the way. 

It’s a quiet night at home. With dinner cleaned up and nothing really on TV, I end up browsing my phone on the couch. 

_You don't have to respond. I hope you stay safe._

I read the final text sent last week between Noble and me. I've been toying with the idea of sending him something for days, but I don't know what. It's too much damn pressure and anything sent over text seems too casual. 

I know the ball's in my court. I could call him, let him know everything I've proposed to my family, all of the options I've considered. I try to anticipate his reaction and then acknowledge a worst case scenario response. Sometimes I imagine him cutting me off with a sad, condescending laugh, explaining that it can't work and it's over. Would I wish I never tried to get him back if that's what he said to me? 

And other times, I think about showing up at his house in Miami, like something out of a dumb movie. Like he opens his door and I'm standing there with flowers. _God_ I'd hate that if it happened to me.

I'm obsessed with thinking about it, though. Not the flowers, but fantasizing about an easy reconciliation where I don't even get a chance to explain the tedious details. Noble just grabs me and pushes me up against the wall, rewards me with the relief of a weighty kiss and then drags me to his bed. We fuck for days and go elope in the Keys and come back to New York married. And I never have to work modified assignment again. That's the one I let myself indulge in when I lie in bed at night, before I go to sleep.

The reality is whatever happens will fall somewhere in the middle of those reactions, requiring a more nuanced conversation. And I'm too antsy and impatient to sit on this much deliberation.

Instead of letting my thumb tap the icon to call him, I swipe away and open my photos. 

Down in a hidden folder on my phone, I still have old pictures of Noble. I haven’t really let myself look at them lately. For a period after we broke up, there were some depressed nights spent down that rabbit hole, but I tried to forget about them. I even deleted most of them, but saved a few that I couldn’t bring myself to erase forever.

Easing down further on my couch, I rest my head back and study the first image. It’s one of him asleep in my bed. Or pretending to be asleep. His face half buried, arm hooked around a pillow, the toned, curved paths of muscle along his back glow in soft morning light. The image alone sends a little twitch to my groin. 

I swipe to the next. It’s one I snapped while he drank from a glass of wine. He realized just when I was taking it, so he cocked one eyebrow as he peered at me over the rim. It makes me smile and I flick to the next one. 

I don’t like being in my own pictures, so I think this is one Noble took and then sent to me. It’s the two of us in the elevator at his penthouse. He had angled his phone up to the mirrored ceiling of the car while I hid my face in the curve of his neck as I stood beside him.

I remember that morning. We had just come from having coffee a few blocks away and were getting ready for another goodbye before he left to catch his flight. That was the day I first told him I loved him. 

The memory actually pushes down on my chest. I miss him so much it fucking hurts. I can practically smell him -- that clean, seductive warmth of his skin -- when I look at that picture.

Damn, enough of that.

I swipe again and immediately that push becomes a tight coil of heat when I see what's next. 

The thick head of Noble’s cock pushes through the loose grip of his fist in the thumbnail image of the video. All that’s in frame is his hand grasping his dick, the blur of his dimly lit bedroom in the background.

Fuck I almost forgot I had this. 

He had sent it after a morning of teasing where we worked each other up only to cut ourselves off with daily boring obligations. But that was sort of a habit with us. Starting with memories was usually the quickest way to get us both turned on, so far apart.

I had stepped out of the shower one morning to a text from him. It was pretty typical form for the both of us, aiming to get the other hard in a matter of one or two sentences first thing in the morning. 

Noble: _You’re incredible and you make me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about the way you looked when you let me push your legs up, your knees almost to your shoulders so I could go so fucking deep._

Jamie _: Jesus. It’s so early for that kind of talk. Keep going._

Noble _: When has that ever stopped us?_

Jamie _: It hasn’t. I woke up hard imagining I was in your bed. I love the way you feel on top of me. All over me. The way you jack me between our bodies._

Noble _: Fuck._

Jamie _: I like when you pin me down at first, though. Hold my arms down beside my head and make me ask you to touch me._

Noble _: Fuuuuuucccccckkk. Call me right now. On FaceTime._

Jamie _: I can’t. I’m on my way out the door._

Noble _: You asshole. God damn._

Jamie _: What? Just hold that thought until I get home tonight and we’ll continue this. I love you._

And then later that day, knowing better than to check our texts while I was at work, I received the video from him. The message along with it taunting me, _Oh you can be sure I’m holding that thought._

I had practically bit through my lip in anticipation as I fell back into my bed to watch what he gave me. It wasn’t the first dick exchange sent over text, but it was the first video and _oh my god_ , it was hot as hell. 

But I still remember the cruel endpoint where it cuts off. I remember lounging back, tugging at my own cock in time to the stroke of his hand on himself. His faint, shaky breaths. The build-up to a determined jerking that had me all twisted up inside, holding my breath, on edge for the sight of his climax. 

But instead, I was denied. The progress bar on the video timed out. He had stopped recording before I was rewarded and _goddamn_ , talk about payback. 

I still got off to it. And when we talked late that night, I made sure we had our cameras on to satisfy ourselves with a Round Two that had a proper finish. 

But that was months ago. Scooting down a little on the couch, I adjust myself beneath the sweatpants I’m wearing. I haven’t played this video since then, but that’s about to change.

My thumb hovers over and then quickly taps the _play_ icon. It starts with Noble stretched out on his bed, just sort of idly playing with his cock which stands full and erect and straining toward his stomach. I don't see any other clothes, no shirt in the way, no shorts pulled down around his thighs. Just the path of his low abdomen that leads to that stiff shaft. 

His large hand grips, pulling a few times, then slows to stroke all the way to the tip where he closes his fist. 

And that prompts the first little sound he makes. A restrained sigh that sort of cracks in his throat. Fuck, it's crazy how just hearing it gets me all the way hard with a throbbing flex in my groin muscle. I could literally just close my eyes and listen to his noises and get myself off to it.

But I'm definitely keeping my eyes open. Leaning back, I slide the waist of my pants down enough to free my hard-on. There's a noise of my own that rumbles in my chest at the sensation.

I watch on my phone as Noble squeezes his fist around the head of his cock and a few clear beads of precome leak there.

"Ah, fuck," I whisper, letting my neck arch back. Like some kind of automatic response, my mouth waters. I tip my head up again, and let go of myself long enough to spit into my palm, desperate for some kind of slickness.

Then I push the edge of my t-shirt up my stomach a little, grasp my dick once more and begin to stroke.

His quiet, throaty groan swells, low and deep and I can practically fucking feel it. He follows it up with a quick breath that catches before a long deliberate exhale.

His rhythm grows faster and I match it. Rather than imagining him inside me, I picture him right there, the both of us jerking for each other. I want him to watch me. I want his dirty words of encouragement.

It gets to the end, and with my free hand, I drag the video back to the start to play it again. I move the phone down to the couch cushion beside me.

Now it just sustains me, gives me something to play alongside the fantasy in my head that he's watching me. 

Pressing my lips together, I run my other hand between my thighs, beneath my balls. I palm the tightness that tingles there. I slide down some more, further opening my knees as I pump into my hand. 

I never jerk off sitting on my couch. I typically have a little more forethought, heading to bed for it, or I take care of the urge in the shower. But I’m too wrapped up in these memories to care where I am. 

I imagine times he’s watched me get off, either right in front of me or through a screen. So generous with praise and fascination. _Fuck, yes_ , he’d say. _That’s it, baby, use both hands._

My core clenches with a broken exhale. I tilt my hips. I tug at my cock, sure to rub the edge of my thumb along the sensitive tip before my other hand starts to work up from the base. 

The video’s over, but I’m not stopping to replay it. I’m close enough anyway. And after a few more steady jerks, imagining Noble telling me to come for him, I’m already free falling over the precipice. My head pushes back and a loud groan finishes me off.

I wait for the rush of my heartbeat to ease. My limbs heavy, I just let myself sink into the couch cushions for a moment, but I know I’ve got to get up and take care of the mess that I made across my abs.

Glancing down, I notice the darkened screen of my phone. I unlock it, feeling a half second of guilt when I see the still from the video before I back out of it and close it.

Eventually, I push myself up and on the way to the bathroom, feel like I might get my first good night’s sleep in a long time.


	15. Chapter 15

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod--” Bianca drags out the last one just for extra effect through the speaker of my phone.

I swiftly cut her off. “Don’t say anything to him.”

“You’re gonna surprise him?”

“Well… yeah. I mean, not _surprise_ like I jump out of the bushes or something, but--”

“If you’re gonna do it, do it big, Jamie. Like… spell out _I love you_ in candles on his living room floor. I have a key.”

“No--what? No!”

“And wear a tuxedo.”

I huff in exasperation as I trail through my apartment. “That’s a terrible idea.”

She cackles her amusement and I can’t help laugh at her theatrics that are equal parts genuine and insufferable.

“Let me just burn his house down while I’m at it, to be extra romantic.”

“Fine, do it in rose petals.”

“Ugh, no,” I refute. “I’m not _spelling_ anything. I’m not staging some production. I just want to see him and have a real conversation. But I'm asking if I can crash with you in case it's a complete disaster. If not, I can get a hotel."

"Of course you can," she answers. "But it won't be a disaster."

Inhaling a deep breath, I slide onto the barstool at my kitchen counter where I’d been browsing on my computer earlier and set the phone there. "Okay," I sigh, scanning the list of flights. “How’s Thursday?”

* * *

***

This isn’t something I’ve ever done before. I’ve never booked a flight to go win someone back unannounced, with hardly any plan. All I know is Bianca agreed to pick me up at the airport and let me hang out at her apartment until I have some kind of idea what I’m even doing. 

It’s easy to feel confident in New York, when everything is just scheming and scenarios and my family is behind me and it all seems to make sense. It’s all my design. 

But once I get to Miami and face Noble, that control can easily be yanked from me and I’m left with what?

I try to just focus on him, on his words from the last text message he sent me: _You know what you mean to me. That hasn’t changed._

But he admitted he wishes those feelings _would_ change. What if all he wants is time and space -- _or someone else --_ to help him get over me? What if he already has? Fuck, do they serve liquor on this flight? I hate that the only knowledge I have of the situation is how I feel and whatever Noble’s sister tells me, which I can’t totally rely on.

_Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Miami International Airport. The local time is four-ten p.m. and the temperature is eighty-two degrees. For your safety and comfort..._

I drum my fingers on the arm rest and I don’t think the person in the window seat beside me is thrilled about it. While we sit there, I let Bianca know I’ve landed and anxiously await my turn to deplane. 

Finally, I make my way off, following the signs for ground transportation. Outside, Bianca’s there waiting for me at the curb, the passenger window of her little white BMW rolled down.

“Where’s your tux?” She shouts from the driver’s seat.

I blow out a laugh as I approach her car, quipping, “It’s in my backpack.”

She groans, disappointed. “Lame.”

After slinging my bag in the back, I drop down into the seat beside her and pull the door closed. “Good to see you too.”

“You look alright, though.”

I nod in acceptance of the dull review. “Lame and alright. I’m really at the top of my game, then.”

Reaching toward me, she affectionately squeezes my face in her hand before glancing over her other shoulder to merge in with the other cars. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Yeah? I hope you’re not the only one who feels that way.”

“What, are you nervous?”

I prop my elbow on the inside of the window, running my hand along my chin while I think. “I don’t know. Maybe. Have you said anything to him?”

“About you coming? No.”

“Should we call him?”

“He’s at work. So here’s what we’re gonna do,” she decides. “You need a beer because you’re about to start acting like a weirdo. We’ll go back to my place and I’ll find out when he’s home.” 

“How am I--?”

“You just are.”

I exhale in amusement. “Okay. Then what?”

“Then I’ll take you over to his house.” She shrugs as if that’s all there is. “I thought you had some big conversation planned.”

Second guessing myself, I press my lips together. “Maybe I’ll call him and ask him to meet me. I don’t want to just show up. What if--”

“Call him? You could have _called him_ from back in New York, Jamie.”

My shoulders lift defensively. “Alright, alright.”

I agree to her tentative plan and sit back while she navigates us to her apartment. On the way I relax, only by a fraction. Having suffered through a winter that dragged into April in New York, it’s hard not to fall under the spell of Miami sunshine. So I manage a deep, cleansing breath and appreciate the turquoise skies out the window that I can only hope are an omen of something good to come.

* * *

***

“He'll probably be done with work in the next hour,” Bianca updates me as she exits her bedroom. Not even ten minutes have passed since we got here before she's in different clothes, her hair in a ponytail, with a glass of wine poured, obviously practiced enough to become an after-work ritual. 

"Your place is nice." I pace her living room, airy with a lot of white and metallic. Sheer drapes and tall potted greenery by the window.

"Sit down. Relax."

I oblige, sinking to the couch and she meets me there with a bottle of Blue Moon. "Thank you."

After a sip from her glass of red wine, she stands over me. "Let me look at you."

I glance up. "Why?"

Her hand holds my chin and she furrows her brow while she seems to inspect my face. 

"What… are you doing?" I question.

"What do you use to moisturize?"

"To what?"

"Wait right there." She sets her glass on the coffee table and then starts off toward her kitchen. 

Shaking my head, I just drink my beer and check my phone while I wait. 

I see her retrieve something out of the freezer. "You need a little maintenance, Reagan, that's all," she calls out.

I have to roll my eyes. "You sound like Vinny in more ways than one-- _what_. Is that?"

She's tearing open some sort of foil pack before she pulls out these curved shiny gold strips.

"They're little anti-aging undereye masks--" As she peels one off, she jiggles it a little.

I flinch back. "No, what the hell? You're not putting that on my face."

"Jamie." She cocks her head along with her hip. "Trust me. They help with dark circles."

"No." I dodge. "N-n-no, no--"

"Don't be a baby, oh my god," she complains, then pokes her fingertip across the top of her own cheek. "You leave 'em on for fifteen minutes. It'll refresh you. Come on."

"Can we just watch TV? I didn’t come here for some kind of girls' night slumber party."

She narrows her eyes. "Excuse me. _Girls' night_? Fine, show up to woo back my brother looking tired, I don't care."

A flicker of vanity tugs at me and I hesitate. "I look tired?"

Bianca makes this face as her gaze cuts to the side. 

With a scoff, I accuse, "How hard would you kick my ass if I said _you_ look tired?"

"You would never say that because I don't slack on my skincare."

"Just put 'em on my face," I relent.

With a laugh, she leans over me to stick the strips under my eyes while I gulp from my beer. She’s all proud of herself as she pats my cheek to finish her work. 

“What’s next?” I mutter. “Am I getting anything waxed?”

“Ha!” She heads off to a table on the other side of the room where she opens a drawer. “You strike me as the type to have that taken care of and yet never admit it.”

I can’t help but smirk as I shake my head, even though she’s right. 

“I’d press you for details,” she continues. “But considering it’s _my brother_ who’s most likely to see you naked, I’ll refrain.”

“Oh good, you have boundaries.”

“Alright,” she decides and I see her close the drawer and start back toward the couch with books and packs of something else in her hands. “This is the best way to chill, trust me.”

Eyeing her in suspicion, I watch her kneel down at the coffee table. “You know, just because I’m off duty doesn’t mean I condone _the best way to chill_.”

She grins, sorting through her supplies, then looks up at me as she holds one of her books. “Come on, man.” Her eyes squint when she teases me, as if she’s offering me a bong hit. “It’s just a little adult coloring. Try it.”

“Adult what?”

“You heard me.” Straightening up, she starts to spread out what looks like various coloring books and packs of colored pencils. “Aren’t they cool? Whenever I’m feeling anxious, which is about everyday, I hang out in here, have some wine, do these books and it takes my mind off everything.”

Not buying it, I stall a confused moment. “I’m not gonna sit here with this shit on my face and color with you,” I inform her. 

But it turns out, I will.

With her music crooning softly in the background, I find myself talked into sitting on the floor of her living room. With my back against the couch, I work a dark green pencil into the intricate spaces of this random swirling design that almost looks like a tattoo in the book she gave me.

Weirdly, I guess it works. I don’t really notice how much time passes and the lack of conversation doesn’t bother me while I manage to concentrate and zone out at the same time.

"Are you gonna ask him to move to New York?" Her voice floats through my focus.

“You don’t get to know that information before he does,” I answer smoothly.

“Hey, it affects me, you know?”

“If that’s an outcome we decide on, I’m sure we’ll loop you into that conversation.”

“Is that what you want?”

I glance up to watch her concentrating on her page before I answer. “Yeah.”

Her cheek curves up with a knowing smile, as if that’s the answer she wanted to hear. I take it as an unspoken confirmation that it’s what Noble wants to hear too.

“But,” I continue, “I don’t exactly know where he stands. So I don’t want to make assumptions that he’ll just drop everything here and run away with me. For all I know, he could have moved on by now.”

That was me shamelessly fishing for intel. Bianca’s head tilts. “Jamie.”

I pause my coloring efforts, hedging with my next question. “You would tell me if he was dating someone, right? I mean, you know I’m here to like, put it all out there. So if I’m about to say something stupid--”

“He’s not--”

“I mean, I’ve accepted the possibility that he could shut me down. Or that he’s involved with someone else, or--”

“There is no one else, Jamie,” she assures me. “Not even like… a cheap rebound.”

“Well I don’t need to know… as far as that. What he did these past few months, I can’t really…” I’m just rambling. I want to know, but I don’t want to know. Plus, it’s unlikely he’d even share that information with his sister.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she goes on. “It was dark. He wasn’t in a good place.”

My stomach bottoms out just thinking about it and I train my gaze on the path I’m coloring. 

“But that’s not… your fault,” she adds.

“What about now?”

She considers the question over a sip of her wine. “He’s different now. Which I guess is good. For a while there, after you guys called it off, it was like the Old Noble came back and it scared the shit out of me.”

“How so?”

She looks at me. “Just… he was the angry victim again. Not giving a fuck. Difficult to reason with. Luckily he’s got resources here that could help and he wasn’t as stubborn of an asshole about using them this time around. So… therapy’s been good for him--”

“He sees a therapist?”

Bianca shakes her head. “I shouldn’t say anything. That’s his business to tell you.” 

I nod faintly while I process that.

“I just… don’t want you thinking he’s some hopeless basketcase who can’t keep it together,” she explains. “But at the same time, it’s not like he was down here living his best life without you.”

I blow out a soft laugh. Strangely, it’s sort of what I wanted to hear.

After a heavy exhale, she questions, “You want another beer?”

"Um." I glance up, sort of lost in thought. "Do you have coffee, actually? Your whole _best way to chill_ setup might be a little too chill."

"Preparing for a late night, hm?" She muses as she stands up and makes her way to the kitchen.

"We'll see about that--" I murmur, returning to my coloring project.

Across the apartment, I hear a faint few knocks at the door. After a moment, I glance over to the kitchen where Bianca’s grabbing a coffee mug and closing cabinets.

“You gonna get that?” I call out.

Then someone announces, “Hey, hey!” at the entryway before closing the door.

My pencil freezes on the page and _okay_ _now_ my stomach really bottoms out at the recognition of that voice. 

Noble’s here.

“Hang on a sec!” I hear Bianca shout. “Jeez.”

“No one was answering," he calls back.

“So you just let yourself in? What if I was holding a knife?”

“The only thing you know how to use in this kitchen is a corkscrew."

"Wait.” There's a hitch of panic in her voice. “What are you even doing here?" 

I push the book across the coffee table and get to my feet. I only make it a few steps across her living room before Noble's standing there at the threshold, inexplicably with a bundle of tall orange flowers in his arm. 

"I'm bringing you--" He starts, but then he sees me and his sentence just stalls out with a breathy " _Whoa_."

Immediately his brow pinches together, bewildered.

“Wh--” I start, but words just catch in my throat. “Uh… hey.”

“Jamie.” He turns back to Bianca with his question. “What are you--?”

“He came here to see you,” she jumps in with an explanation. “He just got here. We were waiting until I knew you were home from work, and then…” She trails off to look at me.

Noble’s lips part and the slant of confusion still hasn’t faded from his expression. “To see me,” he echoes.

“Yeah,” I exhale.

His gaze darting, he glances around the room, seeming to gather evidence for whatever it was we could have been doing. Then his eyes return to me, the dazed shine still there, before he asks, “What’s on your face?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it feels like it's been forever! But this chapter picks up right where the last left off, with Noble showing up to Bianca's apartment and finding Jamie there. :)

“What? Shit.” I mutter the curse and step back as I peel the little strips from my cheeks.

“Oh my god!” Bianca heckles from the kitchen with a loud laugh. “That was my fault--” but then she cracks herself up again.

I can’t help but chuckle as I swipe the side of my hand beneath my eyes to rub off whatever was on there. “Yeah, thanks.”

“What’s with the flowers?” Bianca questions.

“Oh, um--” It’s clear Noble’s still in some kind of shock because it takes him a second to figure out his answer. “That property we’ve been working on had all these calla lily cuttings and I thought you’d like them, that’s all.”

“Gorgeous,” she admires. “I love the orange. Thanks. Set ‘em here, I’ll get them in water.”

Noble just sort of absently unloads the flowers at her counter before moving out of her kitchen. “Well uh…” His voice lowers to address me, then he blows out this puff of air in confused amusement. “This is unexpected.”

“I know.” I swallow hard, my gaze lifting as he comes closer. 

My _god_. It makes my throat tight as I start to process the fact that he’s standing right in front of me. The mess of his wavy brown hair, those broad shoulders beneath a well-fitting, deep green t-shirt, dusty and worn from work, but _fuck me_ … that face. That face that hasn’t seen a shave in a definite while has me feeling this weakness I didn’t anticipate.

Then Bianca’s voice cuts in. “You don’t think I’m having some secret affair with Jamie, do you?” She shouts over the running water from her sink. “He’s just here to wait for you!”

“I got it!” Noble calls back.

My eyes narrow in a tease. “You know that, right?”

“There was maybe half a second where I wondered, but--” He tilts his head. “I mean you guys are coloring and doing spa treatments, it doesn’t appear to be all that scandalous.”

My head tips down with an embarrassed laugh and I rub my hand across my brow.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks. 

Damn, he’s so good at that. He always has been. Of taking control of a situation to move it forward. Not to mention good at being sexy as hell with that voice and a simple question. 

“Yes.”

“Let’s go then.” Noble turns and leads me out of the living room. On the way, he picks up the strap of my backpack that sits on the floor and moves it onto his shoulder. “We’re taking off,” he announces to his sister.

I see her grin. “Bye!” She sings without any additional questioning, which takes me a little by surprise.

“I’ll see you,” I let her know. “Thanks.”

Noble and I make our way down to the ground floor of her complex and over to his car. He puts my stuff in the back and we climb inside.

“It okay if we go to my house?” He wonders as he starts the engine.

“Yeah, of course.”

He exhales a soft laugh and just kind of waits a minute as he studies the steering wheel. “I don’t know if it’s hit me yet that you’re really here.”

“I, uh--” I smile and glance down. “This wasn’t exactly my plan.”

He smirks. “You had a plan?”

Pressing my lips together, I notice the rush of heat up my neck, this combination of self-consciousness and arousal that’s got me hyper-aware of my reactions to him. “Just drive.”

"Wait, what was this plan? Plan to do what?" Backing out of the space, his gaze catches mine with amusement before he makes his way out of the parking garage.

"To come see you. I hope that's okay."

Blinking a few times, he swallows, then answers softly, "It's… very okay."

I rest my head back. "I like the beard."

His eyes cut over to me while he drives, the corner of his lips giving a satisfied flick. He scratches his fingertips along one scruffy cheek in an automatic response. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I can shave if--"

"No, don't," I assure him. “It’s good.” I want to drag my hand over his face, along the underside of his chin, but I refrain. 

"Well you look good," he tells me, then gestures to his own eyes. "Very hydrated."

"Shh--" I hiss my laugh and push my fist against his upper arm, muttering, "Shut up."

It's only a couple minutes before we get to his house. Just inside, he decides on a shower and lets me know I can make myself comfortable.

"Y’know. Same old place." He gestures around the familiar living space. "Feel free to get something to drink, turn on the TV." Then he heads off to close himself in his bedroom.

Pacing across the living room, I can’t quite put my finger on the vibe between us. There’s an immediate charge I don’t know if I expected. Not some kind of desperate urgency like I felt at his hotel the last time I saw him, but this sort of dreamy anticipation that makes me feel considerably calmer just being here.

I glance above his couch and there on the wall is the black and white print of Brooklyn Heights I gave him for Christmas. I’d never seen it in his house other than the picture he sent after he hung it. The memory of taking that for him squeezes in my chest as I let my gaze settle there.

It isn’t long before I hear his shower turn off and after a few moments, he makes his way back out from his room, dressed in black gym shorts and this vintage looking Blondie concert t-shirt and he looks so damn attractive, it makes my heart race. 

Well I _was_ calm a minute ago.

“That’s better,” Noble announces, crossing over to the kitchen. Then he grins a little when he looks at me. “Dude, have you just been standing there? I told you to make yourself at home.”

“I’m good,” I insist.

“So a surprise visit from you, huh” He muses, turning to his cabinet where he takes down two glasses. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Jamie?” The way he says it is almost mocking, and I don’t care. I’m kind of into the restrained coolness because I know it’s an act I’m about to rattle. 

I have to exhale a soft laugh as I come closer to his kitchen, my hands slipping into the pockets of my jeans. “I was hoping we could talk.”

He nods to himself as he moves to another cupboard, retrieves a bottle of Knob Creek, and goes to work concocting a drink for both of us. “We can talk all you want,” he tells me. 

I watch as he drops a sugar cube in each glass, crushes them with bitters and an actual fucking wood muddler. His forearm flexing while he concentrates, I don't say anything just yet. But the fact that he's being so deliberate, so ritualistic with his focus, I know he's nervous right now.

"Is this your usual drink after work?" I ask. 

A little twitch at his lips forces a smile before he tips the bourbon into both glasses. Without looking at me, he answers coyly, "No."

I just lean my hip against the counter's edge. "It's very serious," I murmur.

"It's nice to have a guest."

My head tips back a little and I scoff. "A _guest_? It's just me."

I see his tongue pass across his bottom lip as he looks over. "It's you."

A flutter zips through my stomach and I swallow hard, merely standing by to observe. I miss watching him make things for me, so intuitive and easy. I’ve always been a sucker for his small acts of consideration with me.

He stirs in a couple cubes of ice. Then with a peeler, he carefully tears off the rind of an orange to finish, twisting one into each glass.

"That's probably the sexiest Old Fashioned I've ever seen," I tell him.

"Ha." Noble smiles. "If you're gonna do it, do it right, you know?"

I hum my agreement.

After clearing off some of his workspace on the counter, he passes me a glass. "For you. Cheers."

"Cheers." Our glasses meet. "Thank you."

"Let's go outside." He nods toward the back door. With the sun slipping toward the horizon, there's this enticing glow of orange and lavender, the palm trees darkening to almost a silhouette in the distance beyond his pool. I might have to let Danny know that these kinds of amenities make it hard to care about overpriced bars and a shitty baseball team. 

I follow Noble out to the patio. He stops to flick on the globe lights strung along the pergola and we seat ourselves on his cushioned sectional set back from the pool. 

“So what exactly were you doing with my sister?” He wonders.

An embarrassed laugh stutters out of me before I try out my drink. “I was uh… She was my ride from the airport. So we were just killing time.” I look at him over the rim of my glass. “And that’s all I wanna say.”

Noble sputters an unexpected laugh. 

“So I’m definitely glad you decided to show up.”

“Me too.”

My gaze lingers on his for a moment before I reach forward to set my glass down. “I didn’t call first because…” I can’t just sit. I push my palms nervously across my thighs, then scratching the back of my head, I get up to move past the table. “I wanted to make sure you heard everything… from me. And I wanted to see you and have a real conversation.” I pace a little bit while I think, running a hand up and down my face until I let it fall to my side and I turn to look at him. “The argument we had at your hotel last week was dumb, and I’m sorry--”

“Jay, I know,” he cuts in. “You didn’t have to come all the way here just to apologize for that.”

“I didn’t. That’s not--” I pause, pressing my lips together. The words and the air all jump in my chest. “I came here to tell you that I still--” I cough out a breathy laugh. “-- _love you_. I really…I love you so damn much.”

I see him close his eyes, tipping his face down a little as if to say _ah, fuck_ as he sets his drink on the table between us _._ Like he’s not ready to hear this. 

“You’re--” I go on, coming closer. “Noble, you’re someone I’ll never get over.”

He glances up at me, eyes searching my face with this hesitation, ready to retreat for his own safety.

“But I don’t want to get over you,” I say. "I don't know... if you changed me. Or just… turned something on or awake in me that's always been asleep. Maybe both. But the person I am with you is the person I want to be.”

He lets his head drop. Catching it, he props his elbows on his thighs and I can’t tell what this reaction is. 

So I just keep going. “And I'm sorry that I made you feel like I didn't trust you. I’m so sorry.” I exhale. “I want you. And I want you to know… how I feel--"

"I fucking miss you so much." He sighs the interruption with his head between his hands. Fingertips rake through his hair as he peers down at the ground. "I miss you all the time, Jamie."

"Hey--” I attempt softly. I’m not trying to upset him. Moving his leg aside, I lower to my knees in front of him.

“Every day, I've regretted walking out of your apartment like that,” he confesses, still hanging his head.

Leaning in, I touch my nose into his hair, then reach for the back of his neck where I stroke my hand. "It's okay," I assure him in a whisper. 

"It's not okay," he insists. 

"Noble."

"I fucking lost you.” Finally his gaze lifts to find mine. “Just like that.”

With a faint shake of my head, I swallow. I feel a sting there in my throat when I see the anguish in the way he looks at me. I ease back a little, dragging my touch from his neck to his face. "No, you didn't. I wouldn't be here."

Slowly his eyes fall shut and he leans in, his fist closing around the front of my t-shirt before his face falls against my neck.

I hold him closer, stroking the back of his head again and I tip my face down to murmur, “You never lost me, okay?”

He just stays there a few beats. Deep breaths fill his back, inhaling at my collar. “I’m sorry.” The moment is solemn, weighty and bigger than any other apology we’ve exchanged and I let it surround the both of us.

I manage a faint nod, dragging fingers up and back down. “I know. Me too.”

I feel him move, peering down between us before he mutters, “Why are you on the ground?”

I exhale a heavy laugh in relief, pushing my hand across his back. “I never know where I’m gonna end up when it comes to you.”

His throaty chuckle tickles my neck and he starts to ease upright. “Well you’ll never hear me complain about you on your knees, but--”

I squeeze hard at his sides as I push back from him and shove my palm against his chest.

He flinches, the move eliciting his smiley amusement and he reaches for me. “But get back up here. Please.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mention of drug use.

“It’s important that I’m honest with you,” Noble says, glancing down to turn the heavy bottom of his glass in his palm as he adjusts beside me.

Lifting my chin, I assess him and steel my jaw. “Okay.”

“I’ve been going to counseling.” His gaze rises to mine.

I blow out a little exhale. “Oh yeah? Me too.”

Noble pauses for a sip of his drink and considers it over a hard gulp. “Oh did you also snort half a gram of ketamine and try to call your dead mom?”

I merely raise a questioning eyebrow. “What?”

“And then just end up... fucking crying while you watch the both of you drown until the trip wears off?”

“Noble.”

“It was once," he tells me. "Not that that’s an excuse. But… y’know sometimes with me, it’s like, I would have a hard time acknowledging that I wasn’t okay. So I’d push away that acknowledgment either by… faking it or with distraction. But when neither of those worked, I just… I wanted to turn everything off. Or more like, I wanted to turn myself off.

Reaching over, I take his glass and lean to set it on the table before I slide my body so that I’m facing him, my arm along the back of the seat. “Come here.”

He adjusts his hips until he fits in closer to me and I easily tug one of his legs so that it rests over mine. The both of us are just sort of loosely entangled, but being this close, I needed to have some level of physical contact with him. 

He lays a hand across my bent leg before his fingers wander over to trace a path along my forearm. I miss his absent touches, how effortlessly they’ve always sparked something alive in me.

“Anyway,” he murmurs. “I don’t get fucked up like that anymore. I hadn’t… put anything up my nose since that night you called an ambulance for me. It was a bad trip, that’s all. But I came out of it with this realization that I have to stop trying to dissociate.” His hand slips beneath mine, my fingers spreading apart for his to graze in between them. “I got help. I’m getting help. It takes a while to process what this whole… new identity really does to a person.”

I offer a faint nod while I study him, then finally speak up. “I’m proud of you for getting help.” My hand leaves his just long enough to squeeze his bare knee, then down his calf muscle a little before stroking back up to find his hand again.

He rolls his eyes like I’m patronizing him, but the hint of a proud smile quirks his lips and I know he’s at least somewhat pleased to hear it.

“So I'm running again. I still hate that. And I've been messing around in the kitchen and actually enjoy it. That's starting to feel normal," he muses. “Although, I miss doing those things with you.”

“I miss it too.”

“I think about you everyday.” He leans his head back on the cushion of the chair and looks over at me.

I smile. “Me too. At first, I would try to block it out. I’d start to think about you and then it’d be… too hard and I’d force myself to quit. I’d imagine you, I don’t know, either in a bad situation or moving on with someone else.” I laugh softly. “Both were not enjoyable scenarios to think about.”

Noble’s scruffy cheek perks up a little in amusement. “Jamie. There was no moving on. Are you kidding me? There was just survival, and that’s about as far as I got.”

“You don’t have to... tell me--” I stumble over the words because while I completely expected Noble to have -- at the very least -- fooled around with someone, it’ll wreck me to know it’s actually true.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Tilting my head, I cock one skeptical eyebrow. “Come on.”

“What?” He chuckles. “You assume I had some rebound?”

I groan, closing my eyes. “Yeah. And I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t want to know that I’ve touched literally nobody since you?”

I look at him, at his handsome face and the earnest slant at his brow when his features soften. Slipping my hand beneath his elbow, I gently urge him closer. He lifts his head, his gaze quickly growing heavy as it meets mine as he keeps talking.

"I’m being honest,” his voice low and irresistible. I feel the tease of a smile just as our lips meet. It’s this mutually initiated kiss. Neither of us went in for it first, we just kind of wind up together.

I feel the unexpected flutter of my eyelids as they close and I swear I can sense the exact trail of heat as it lights its way through me. My cheeks, down my neck, rattling my pulse, swirling in my chest, everything inside me reacts to his lips on mine. 

Prompted by the faint urgent rumbling in my throat, Noble slides his hand along my face and holds me there. Maybe it’s to keep me present, to slow me down in case I’m about to dive on top of him and get lost, which,  _ okay fine, _ I’ve been guilty of that before.

His thumb drags across my cheekbone and gradually our kiss slips away, the rough sensation of his beard just a tease along the edge of my chin.

He hums this quiet sound, pausing to rest his forehead against mine. I close my eyes again when his fingers trail the back of my head.

His chest fills with a deep breath and he tilts his face down, still grazing fingertips through my hair, and he whispers. “You taste so damn perfect. God, I missed it.”

I’m quiet while I appreciate him there and lick my own bottom lip, swallowing hard. 

I know what he means, it’s like my senses recognized his kiss immediately, his taste so familiar. Even the way he smells is this anchor that lets me know I can relax now.

I brush my mouth across his once more, capturing another taste. It’s half a second and it makes my pulse flare. 

Easing my face away, I slide my hand up the center of his chest and let it linger there at his t-shirt collar. "I didn’t…” I attempt, then press my lips together. “You weren't  _ obligated _ to celibacy, you know.”

He looks at me like I’m dense and can’t understand him. "I never considered myself  _ obligated _ . I mean, Jamie-- I'm… I'm pretty hardcore in love with you and that didn't change."

My eyes close with my quiet amusement. 

"Which… is why what I did was so shitty. Leaving like that."

My fingertip traces where his t-shirt meets his skin, my thumb brushing over his throat. I lean back in and touch my lips there, the thick column of smooth skin too damn inviting to resist. He lets go of a heavy breath when I do and it vibrates the air between us.

"Well,” I mutter, then glance up at him. “We're done tormenting ourselves with regret, okay?"

He smirks a little, exhaling a quiet laugh. "Is it decided?"

"Yeah."

"Nice." He nods. "Then I have something I need to know."

"Mmkay."

"Can we please eat something?" He proposes. His hand slips down the side of my neck before he grasps the front of my shirt and I feel the smile break across my face. "Because I've been at work all day. And I'm fucking hungry."

"Yes." I laugh. 

He smacks my thigh and starts to push himself up. "Let's go."


	18. Chapter 18

This is all so familiar I almost don’t even notice. The way Noble moves around his kitchen, pulling open his oven to slide out the sizzling cast iron skillet.

“Please don’t touch that handle without the towel, dude.”

I chuckle from my station at his counter while finishing up the green salad he's tasked me with. “Yes, chef. I learned my lesson the first time.” Then I feel his hand squeeze low on my waist before he passes behind me.

“Let those steaks rest about five minutes,” he says to himself.

"Five minutes, huh?" I murmur. "You gonna make it?"

"Hm, I don't know." He stops at my shoulder and I feel him drop his forehead there. "It smells good and I'm hungry."

Shamelessly, I stretch my neck just a little as an invitation and he doesn't hesitate to move his mouth there.

With a growl and a teasing bite, he digs his teeth against my skin. Flinching at the sensation, I crack up and reach one arm up and around the back of his head. 

"You better watch it," I threaten.

I turn to bend forward, headlocking him at his neck. He grips my sides and sputters his loud laugh as we scuffle across the kitchen floor.

"You might be a decent runner, but you got weak on me," I grunt, holding his head down near my waist.

"Oh ho! You're some kinda dick," he chuckles the accusation. Reaching up, he grasps for my waist and attempts a cheap squeeze to tickle me until he twists out of my hold. Then quickly, he gets upright, and I find myself backed against the kitchen sink.

Noble plants his hands on either side of my hips at the counter's edge and tilts into me. Fuck, the weight of him feels good and I can't help but smirk up at him. 

"You're in here fighting in my kitchen," he criticises, then leans in close before swiftly edging back, denying me his mouth. "You animal."

My gaze is heavy, dragging the path of his lips as if I'm about to chase them. "I pick my moments," I murmur. 

His knuckle and thumb pinch my chin and he leans in and touches another kiss to my lips. 

This time is more playful than we were outside. He teases my bottom lip with a pinch of his teeth. I feel myself smiling against his mouth as my tongue flicks along his.

With a possessive tug, I pull him in closer at his waist. My hands slip outside the slick fabric of his gym shorts and I give his ass a firm squeeze. 

I like the way he sucks in a hiss of air between his teeth in response and tilts into me. And when he swings one arm around my neck, we press and grab at one another, falling into this deep kiss there was just no use holding back anymore.

It's unapologetic and heavy and happy. I mumble this loud groan into his mouth before I pull off of it and tilt my chin up to look at him. "You feel so damn good. Mm." I give his asscheeks another emphatic squeeze. 

"So do you," he says, falling against me to wrap me up in a hug. He digs his grip into my back. "I fucking missed you so hard."

Ending it with a hard smack on his butt, I make another short, pleased noise that he echoes before eventually pulling away. 

"Let's eat," I tell him. "Before I start getting ideas."

"Wait, one more." He turns his back to me and peers over his shoulder expectantly.

Pulling back my hand with some dramatic flair, I whip my palm to the curve of his ass once more and a satisfying  _ smack _ resounds.

"Ha!" He reacts in surprise even though he was ready for it, tipping his head back with a throaty laugh. "Maybe I like you and your ideas."

Digging teeth into my lower lip, I squeeze between his shoulders in a loving massage and move past him to help plate our dinner.

* * *

***

“Your whole… drink production would go over pretty well with my father.”

Noble smirks from the barstool beside me where we eat. “Drink production?”

I savor another bite of the tender steak and nod my head toward the kitchen sink where we’d left our empty cocktail glasses. “I mean, y’know, the process involved with the crushing the sugar cube and the orange peel and the whatever.”

He nods, amused at my recap, but then doesn’t say anything for a minute as he absently rakes his salad with the tip of his fork. Then he speaks up. "I've never exactly been the guy who impresses anyone's dad."

"I have a hard time believing that." I squint one eye at him. "You're very charming. You impressed  _ me _ ."

He smiles, settling back a little on the chair. "You were easy, though."

In pretend shock, my brow slants with my open mouth. "Easy? What’d you do, just pull your tried and true moves on me? And I fell for it like all the others?”

Noble laughs. “I just mean compared to how you knew me before. The fact that I wasn’t hitting the ground with a bloody nose or acting like a strung-out psycho had to be somewhat of an upgrade.”

“Good thing you started out with that low bar for yourself,” I tease with a narrowed gaze. 

“You know I worked for your ass.”

With a chuckle a drag my teeth across my bottom lip and glance down at my plate. “Well… there’s something that I want to tell you. And I don’t know if…” This is the first time I’ve felt a flicker of doubt about Noble’s reaction to telling my family. I’d always figured he’d be happy about it, but that’s a bold assumption. 

“If you’re telling me you slept with Ben, just hold off a minute so I can find something to punch.”

“Sshh-it.” I laugh. “You know that would never happen.”

“Or someone off Grindr he so generously introduced you to?” Noble’s eyes cut sideways. 

I merely cock my head and offer him a look. “Never.”

A secretly pleased smile twitches on his lip in acceptance. 

But then my gaze narrows to turn the suspicion back on him. "You're the one with  _ two steaks _ just prepped and ready in the fridge. Should I question that?"

"Oh-ho." His eyes widen with his amusement. "They were meant for me and my sister to have tomorrow night," he explains. "But I was only loosely committed to that invitation anyway."

"Mm." I nod slowly. "Well, she can get over it."

"For sure," he agrees, glancing down to pierce another piece of steak with his fork.

“I told my dad and my brother about you,” I say, suddenly sobering. “And me.”

Blinking for a beat, his eyebrows raise then he sets his fork down. His mouth moves like he’s about to say  _ what _ and  _ why _ and  _ how _ at the same time, but nothing comes out. 

“My dad first,” I go on. “He knew something was up with me. This was a few weeks ago. I wanted him to know. Even if you and I never saw each other again, it was important to me that he know.”

“Wh--I…” he drags out. “How did he--? I mean, are you written out of the family will, or--?”

“No,” I exhale in a laugh. “To be honest, I was kind of in a weird place when I told him. It was before Vinny got shot and counseling, and-- when I was just kind of going through the motions. But then I told Danny--”

Noble holds out one hand as if to slow me down. “Now when you say you  _ told them _ … what all--?”

“I told them I had been involved with the guy I met working undercover when I was put on the Cavazerre investigation. They remember you.”

“Oh.” He coughs in nervous amusement. “Great.”

“I told them how nothing happened during the UC and that I ran into you last year and that you were living under a new identity in Miami. And how we started hanging out. And it became… serious.”

“Okay, so you  _ told them _ told them.”

“Yeah, I _ told them _ told them. I told them we ended things. But that… for me, it wasn’t over. Once they had time to process that, we had some conversations about how it could all be feasible.”

“Meaning…” His throat clenches with a hard swallow.

“Meaning, I could move. I  _ would _ move. If it meant--” I stop for a heavy exhale and look at him. It’s like I finally catch up with my own thoughts. “If it meant you and I could make it work. That I could be with you.”

He sits up a little straighter. I can tell when the realization all starts to rise to the surface with him. “You wanna move here?”

“I would. It's one option. I was hoping we could… figure things out."

With a stunned open mouth, he finally lets go of an airy laugh. 

"If you want," I add, smirking a little. "I mean I kinda came here to get you back."

Noble just shakes his head at me, still with this curvy smile like he doesn't know what to do with all this. "Well… fucking  _ take me _ , let's go."

Chuckling, I just look at him, admiring that grin and the way his eyes lighten.

He adds, "I'll go anywhere with you."

I pause, drinking from my glass of water before managing a heavy swallow. "What about back to New York?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one at ~2800 words! And what would 2800 words be without an explicit content warning? :)

For hours, we just talk. 

We move from the kitchen, to after-dinner clean-up. Having already established over dinner that Noble will get his own place first, we cruise along on the same page, making plans out loud for his relocation. He starts to mentally work through checklist-style tasks like breaking his lease, selling his car, and other loose ends in Miami.

Then we're in his living room, eliminating New York neighborhoods, tossing out job possibilities. Sometimes he’ll leave the couch to pace the floor in front of me. There’s so much to say, and as ideas hit Noble, it prompts something else for him to consider. 

“We can take our time,” I assure him.

He presses his lips together in thought and then looks at me from where he stands, hands resting on his hips. "I don't know if I want to. I feel like… I’ve been still long enough.”

While I act like it’s my job to slow him down, remind him to take things as they come, really I’m excited as hell. And watching his eyes light up, his features warm and alive with anticipation stirs the same in me. 

“I need a job and an apartment.” His eyebrow twitches. “I can’t have you dating some loser with no income. Plus I’ve cut back on poker games.”

“Well I can help you. If you need to crash with me for a while, you know you can.”

Noble’s smile tugs a little at the corner of his lips. “Is that right?” He makes his way toward me where I sit on the couch, then starts to climb onto my lap, his knees straddling my thighs. “You gotta make me earn it, though.”

“Oh hell yeah.” I ease down, settling in underneath him, and reach up to clasp my hands behind my head. “We can definitely work something out.”

“I couldn’t live with you anyway. I’d never get anything done.”

“I imagine we’d get _a lot_ done,” I murmur, tipping my head back to lower my gaze to him. 

“Mm.” He just hums this rattled noise as he leans his weight into me. Running a hand up my chest, his lips fall on mine.

We’re honestly too horny to have this conversation right now. I could make any serious idea or suggestion sexually explicit. I can hardly see past wanting to just hold him hostage in my bed once we’re back in New York. Budgets and job prospects? I’m gonna need a way clearer head for that kinda talk.

I let him rest against our kiss before eventually, I pull my hands from behind my head to find his.

Slowly, he eases away. “I don’t know how you sit like this on me. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

A laugh rumbles in my chest and I drag my hands down the side of his neck. “I’m a pretty limber guy. Not a lot of people know that.”

“Fuck yes you are,” he practically growls. “Remind me later to have you demonstrate.” Then with this labored grunt, he moves to get up, slowly rising to move off the couch.

I have to laugh at the effort. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Shut up,” he complains.

With a deep inhale, I scrub my hands up my face and then consider the time at my wrist. “Well hey, Bianca is holding a spot for me on her couch tonight if--”

“What?” He cries. 

“In case--” I lift my shoulders in defense after I finish my stretch. “Just in case this was a big failure.”

“You get your ass to my bed, _now--_ ”

Grinning, I shift to stand, holding up innocent hands. “I just meant I should let her know I’m not coming back over.”

He makes this face like we’re not wasting time on this as he pulls out his own phone and starts to type. “ _Jamie… doesn’t need your couch_ ,” he narrates. “There. Sent.”

“So I can stay?”

Noble steps forward and tilts my chin up with the edge of his finger. “You better stay.”

“And then?”

He kisses me briefly. “I have to work tomorrow and I’m very unhappy about that.”

Another sneak of a kiss. “I know it's late,” I murmur, trailing my hands up his strong arms and around his neck. “And I know we have more big things to talk about.”

“Mm-hm,” he breathes.

“But we don’t have to do it tonight.”

Slowly, he nods, tilting his forehead to mine. “Okay.”

“So how about we get ready for bed?”

“I'd like that.” He squeezes my hip to finalize that plan.

* * *

Back in his bedroom, I take some time sorting through my things while Noble finishes up around the house. It isn’t long before teeth are brushed and t-shirts and pants are left aside and we’re climbing innocently into bed in our boxer briefs, as if it were a run-of-the-mill Thursday night of domesticity. 

Yes, a part of me would not be opposed if he actually carried me into his room, dropped me on top of his dresser and reminded me about everything I’d been missing for two months -- namely _him_ balls-deep inside me with my knees pushed up to my shoulders. I had imagined a lot of those scenarios and just varied the furniture.

But there was so much between us right now, hanging there. And I could feel Noble doing a lot of holding back. Not physically, but with his overall energy. I don’t think he fully believes me yet, or believes _us_. 

"You need anything?" He checks with me as he sets his phone to charge on his nightstand. 

"Yeah. You," I answer, scooting down to get comfortable beneath the covers, slipping an arm behind my head. 

"I just--" He stands there at the side of the bed, resting his hands low at his hips. Then he exhales this laugh and arches an eyebrow at me. "You're in my bed."

Easing up, I point toward the door. "You want me to sleep in the guest--?"

There's his slanted smile as he tips forward, catching himself on his hands. "I'm _appreciating_ for a minute, okay? Do you realize how many nights this was all I wanted?"

I can't help the little heated tug I feel in my chest when I look at him. "Yes." I push his side of the sheets down a little. "I know exactly."

His knee dips into the mattress as he climbs in with me. He's quiet aside from a little moan echoing in his throat after he reaches to turn off the last lamp in the room and settles in beside me. 

Turning on my side to see him, my gaze roams his face in the softening darkness. His eyes shine a little, his breathing relaxed, but there's something hidden I need to convince him he can tell me. 

"What's in your head?" I ask quietly.

He swallows. "A lot."

My chin bobs in a faint nod as I study him, my lips sliding across one another in thought. I nudge a little closer. "Let me be what you need."

The way he exhales is shaky and he dips his head toward me. "You are." He breathes out the words in a soft laugh. "God, of course you are. But Jamie, I've always been scared to lose you. Since the beginning. Since I called every number in the five boroughs trying to find you--"

"So don't lose me." The back of my finger drags up the center of his chest. It's a subtle reminder that he's in this too. He ended us once already, and he could leave just as easily as I could.

Slowly, he nods. He catches my finger and brings it to his lips where he kisses it gently. 

I stay there, painting a fingertip along his lower lip, just looking at him. The calm of our breaths steadies my heartbeat. 

"I love you," I whisper. 

"I love you."

"This is you and me," I explain, tracing the edge of his face, into his hair. "This isn't you… keeping parts of yourself locked away, worried I won't like them. And it isn't me… questioning your motives."

The edge of his mouth flicks in appreciation.

"We do this together."

"I want… together," he tells me. "I want us. I want you. Everything."

I have to laugh at his list. 

"You gotta know I’m nervous, though, to come to New York and just move myself into your life.” He adjusts a little, angling back on his pillow to look at the ceiling.

That's exactly what I want, but I know what he means. He wants to establish himself, Nick, in the city. Not holed up in his boyfriend's apartment, hiding out, dependent upon me to steer. 

"You worked really hard to come here and start over," I tell him, moving my hand beneath my head to prop myself up. "And I know doing it all over again won't be easy."

"I've done it once, I can do it again," he reasons, his broad chest expanding with a deep breath. "And this time I'll have you."

I smile at him. "I'm all yours, baby."

An unexpected laugh blows out of him as he turns his head to look at me and he just keeps rolling closer. He meets me where I’m laying on my side and dips his head to brush his lips over mine. 

A warmth flares in my core at the faint, almost hesitant sensation and my hand goes to the side of his jaw to catch him and still the movement. 

His mouth is so fucking soft I nearly melt. My throat vibrates with an airy, needy hum and as soon as the noise escapes me, Noble shifts his weight further until gradually, I’m on my back. 

With one hand, he traps my head in place on the pillow to land the kiss once more. 

Oh… _fuck_. A hundred lights flick on inside me at once like a circuit. 

I reach for the back of his neck, raking fingers through his mess of hair and hold him to me. 

He coasts a hand down my chest, my side and grips there firmly as he deepens the kiss. When he grasps the ridge of my hip, he pushes it into the mattress and _my god_ , I can feel my damn pulse beating in my hard-on. Noble’s got its full attention now.

One of his legs slides over me and in one smooth motion, he shifts on top, hips grinding into mine while he tugs a little with his teeth at my bottom lip. 

The breath that escapes me is shaky and I tip my head back, drawing in fresh air from overhead. 

The move makes him pause, resting his forehead against my throat for a few beats. Then I feel the scratch of his stubble before he tastes the side of my neck with his tongue and slides a slow kiss there.

“Ah, god,” I whisper above his head, dragging my hands down his back. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Noble growls a little at the praise and finds my mouth once again. Easily, we fall into a mutual rhythm, my hips rising as his press down, our legs tangle, and the friction of our bodies feels so goddamn good. I want the weight of him. I want the pressure I feel between his strong thighs that practically grip my own. 

The heat from his mouth makes me feel drunk, lips tingly, everything heavy. I let him take me with him when he moves his head. I just follow, lapping at his mouth and chasing him for more.

Eventually with a rushed exhale, he adjusts a little, pushing up to move his gaze lower between our bodies. Grasping the waist of my boxers, he peels the front down to free my straining cock.

I watch him with rapt fascination, hot throbbing lips parted, desperately curious about his next move.

Slowly, he strokes his groin against my own, a few over his underwear and the way he watches me, it's like someone ravenous making himself stop to appreciate how good a meal looks.

Reaching for his boxer briefs, I guide out the stiff, bobbing column of his dick and make this unrestrained, breathy sigh of approval. "Fffuc--" I start, but the sentiment just evaporates as I drop my head back on the pillow and slip my fist around his girth. 

I guide him closer, our cocks sliding across one another. Our hips rock, seeking out more and it's as if we give ourselves a couple grinding attempts before deciding, _oh_ _hell yeah we fucking want this_. 

We tug at each other's underwear, moving to push them off, shove and kick them beneath the sheets until all we are is skin on skin, lit up and charged off the other's current. 

Unhurried, Noble's legs move against mine as if he's climbing a ladder, straddling one thigh while I rock beneath him. Our mouths are searing, hot breath invades there, and I pull my palms down his back to grope his ass.

He groans into me and in a breathless maneuver, stretches over to the nightstand. He fumbles for the drawer pull and produces a bottle before moving back to me, managing a healthy squeeze of the liquid into his hand on the way.

I watch him and take a second to swallow in anticipation, not quite sure if we're moving on to something else or what. But _god_ , all I know is that I can't give up this closeness to him. 

He wraps a hand around me, stroking a fist and immediately this moan booms out of me. The slick sensation sends waves of heat tumbling through me, coiling and threatening, already tingling in the base of my spine. An almost embarrassing squeak of a sigh jumps from my throat. 

Reaching toward him, I adjust his hand so that his grip covers his own cock too. He strokes us together and the bass of our collective groan rattles the space between us.

I give a few tugs of my own before my other hand seeks out the back of his head to guide him back down on top of me. I can’t get enough of the way he feels all over me. It’s been so fucking long. 

While it was only a few weeks ago that he left marks on my ass and pounded the righteousness out of me that it was a feat of physical dexterity that I was able to walk out of there, that encounter didn’t compare to this. 

Hitching one knee further up my side, he moves against me. The sensation makes my balls tense sending sparks coursing through me. Between my fingers, I squeeze his hair in my fist. We practically bruise one another’s mouths the way we’re so needy.

I slide my hands down the cheeks of his ass and pull him against me, parting slightly, teasing a fingertip between them. I’m met with a hungry growl of approval and Noble’s mouth slips from mine.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he whispers.

I hum in response, continuing my faint strokes as our cocks slip all over each other, pinned low between our bodies. The harder I grab his ass, the more pressure he sends along my shaft and it’s got me spiraling toward an explosive end faster than I realize. 

“Fuck Noble,” I breathe. “I could come like this.”

“Come baby,” he rasps against my neck. “Let me see.”

As soon as he says it, I let go of a tightly wound line and it snaps, sending that surge of release through me. I exhale a ragged groan, tipping my head back, biting out another few _Fuck_ s beneath him.

“Ohh,” he echoes and I feel him press up a little, his arms straightening like he wants to watch. “Shit-- yeah. _Oh my god._ ” Urging himself against me, his cock slides along my come-spattered hip, and the feeling is unbelievable -- leaving me panting and still swearing -- as he grazes me, hot and sensitive. 

I reach for him, grasping his shaft to jerk him on top of me and once I do, he loses it. 

He groans loud and shatters, picking his head up to call out above the headboard while he shoots across my stomach. 

His noises are shaky, muscles contracting as his orgasm seizes from inside.

Once my climax releases its grip on me, I deflate, limbs heavy and useless and Noble collapses on top of me. Our hard breaths match for a moment, filling the air around us.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles again.

My cheeks manage a smile. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

He slides off a little but keeps most of his weight draped across me, his back expanding as he draws in each calming inhale. And I know we’ll separate and move eventually, find some functionality in our muscles. 

But for right now, we don’t need to find anything.


	20. Chapter 20

The shrill, insistent beeping slices through my sleep and I lift my head from the pillow so quick, I nearly pull a muscle. "Ugh, shit," I mumble, taking a second to realize it's Noble’s alarm and not some government alert to take cover in a bomb shelter. 

I feel him shift away from me and after another couple seconds of the cruel torture, he shuts the noise off.

Noble lets out a sleepy groan and settles back down on his stomach beside me. "Sorry." 

His bedroom is still dark and while I’m no stranger to an early wake-up call, it’s particularly agonizing considering I’m finally in bed with the man I’ve been desperate for and here it is, rudely interrupted. 

"That's what your alarm sounds like?" I rasp before a deep inhale and I push a hand up my face. "That might be a deal breaker, man."

With a lazy chuckle, he nuzzles his head further into the bend of his arm. "I'm a heavy-ass sleeper. It's the only one that works."

Noble told me last night that his alarm was set for five a.m. and it didn’t sound so horrible at the time. But no fucking way I’m letting him get up to go run. A weighty moan rattles in my chest as I turn to slip my arm across his back. Grabbing him along his side, I pull him toward me so that he rolls over, his back to my chest. 

I hold him to me, all sleep-warm and soft, everything about him feels so good. He drags his hand down the bend in my arm and inches back closer to me, burrowing down into the bed as I surround him, with sleepy kisses against the back of his shoulder.

I’m hard in record time. My erection presses into the curve of his ass and I have no shame about sliding my touch down his stomach before I grasp between his legs. My hand closes around his hard-on for a quick grope, then dips down for a handful of his balls.

“Oh, you’re so mean,” he complains. “I have to get in the shower.”

“What’s two more minutes?”

He laughs. “Not nearly as much time as we really need, that’s what.”

This pleased little hum buzzes in my throat. “Well hey, if I follow you to the shower, we could be so efficient and productive--” I lean up to kiss him closer to the curve of his neck. “With our time.”

He reaches to find my hair, scratching his fingers along the back of my head. “Mm. Look at you.”

"I'm good at ideas," I murmur, following in closer.

His drowsy chuckle makes me laugh too and with his arm wrapped around the back of my neck, my lips find his biceps.

"And then tomorrow," He starts. "No work. No nothing. Just us and this bed and nowhere to be."

I can't help my quiet growl where I smile against his skin.

Just then the blaring alarm sounds again, prompting us to flinch apart. I squeeze my eyes shut and fall onto my back until it stops. Obviously, he had only hit _snooze_ the first time, a habit I’m going to have to break him of. 

Noble eases up with another stretch at the side of the bed. “Sorry. It’s actually off this time.”

I merely exhale a spent laugh and lay there while he gets out and makes his way to the bathroom.

It isn't long before I join him. And we use the time he would normally block off for a workout to feel each other up under the hot spray of the shower -- definitely a more preferred way to spend the early hours of the day.

And two minutes was, in fact, about all it took for soapy hands to get one another off. A good old fashion, no frills, morning jerk for clarity. To get the blood pumping. 

After that, we’re awake, moving on to scrub ourselves clean.

"Don't hate me…" I start, peering up at Noble.

He leans in to taste my lips. "Sometimes I do," he answers.

"But while you're at work today, I don't plan on doing anything."

He sputters a laugh and leans his head back a little to rinse some of the suds from his hair. "Who says you have to? I want you to relax."

"Something about your house puts me in lazy-ass vacation mode."

"Oh good, I like you in that mode. You get really horny."

"Uh yeah, speaking of--" My brow furrows with concern and I'm sure from the indignant look on my face, he knows what I'm complaining about. 

His green eyes shine wider and a grin pulls at his cheeks. "Oh-ho, is someone pouting that he hasn't been properly fucked yet?"

My gaze narrows as my expression changes at the insult. Biting my lip, I reach out and tweak his nipple between my thumb and knuckle. "I don't pout!" I laugh.

"Ha!" He cackles, fighting me off. Grabbing my wrist, he tries to twist my arm away, but I break out of his grip and squeeze him again. Only this time, he catches my forearm once more and holds it up beside my head. His voice is sharp when he orders, "Hey."

Smiling, I comply because _oh god_ , I fucking want to. And the heat rushes straight to my groin at his tone with just one word. I press my lips together in anticipation. 

He comes closer. "You're not getting it quick and dirty on my watch, babe. At least not right away."

I let out a little petulant whimper and step back as he urges me toward the wall. When I feel the wet tile behind me, I rest against it and tip my head back enough to gaze up at him. "Then stay home today."

Noble holds my arm to the wall above my head and moves in until the tip of his nose grazes mine. "You'll wait."

"You fucker," I whisper. 

"You'll love it," he murmurs back before he lets go of my wrist and shifts his grip to bring his mouth to mine. 

I indulge his kiss for a moment, but then tilt my chin up to pull away with the drag of my teeth along his bottom lip. “What I _will_ love is making you regret that.” Another kiss before I smirk. “It’s about to be a long day at work.”

* * *

***

Noble thinks he can tease _me_? First of all, nobody gets off on self-restraint harder than I do. And second, his attempts at power plays are cute and I’ll let him think they’re effective. But if there was a ranking system in place for commanding tease performances, I’d be first in my class.

I pass on breakfast just yet, letting him know I’m going for a run first. So Noble grabs something quick for himself, pours a travel tumbler of coffee before he stops where I stand, propped against his kitchen counter for a kiss goodbye. It’s kind of an amusing routine to see for him at six-thirty in the morning.

“You stay outta trouble,” he reminds me.

There’s a smug flash in my eye when I smirk. “Don’t count on it.”

He merely returns this little frustrated grunt, and leaning in, his kiss meets my mouth once more. “You’re mine tonight.”

“Damn right,” I murmur, my lips hardly leaving his.

With another regretful groan, he backs away, snatching his keys and muttering _god, fuck!_ as he goes.

Chuckling softly, I offer, “Have a good day!”


	21. Chapter 21

I make good time on my run in his neighborhood. Noble's house is close enough to the beach that it makes for an unbeatable sunrise view. Waves in the distance, and the sea breeze all around me distract from the lapsed time until I loop back on my route to his place.

Noble had let me know that if it was a slow day at work, he’d check in with me. Pondering this over some ice water while I stand in his kitchen to cool down, I survey the living space of his house. When my gaze lands on the little tripod mount for his phone that he'd use while working at the kitchen counter as he talked to me, I get started on a little payback plan.

Bringing it to the edge of his counter, I twist and adjust the legs, positioning my phone in the holder. Then I peer back over my shoulder to gauge the door frame in view that’s outfitted at the top with a horizontal pull-up bar. I’m pretty sure that’s new and I’m appreciative of the addition to his regimen. 

I go over to stand underneath it, stretching up to test it out. When I close my grip around the bar and it feels secure, I engage my muscles to hoist myself up successfully, then drop down to my feet with a satisfied little laugh.

After tweaking the zoom and framing of my phone camera, I step back to make sure it looks good, then lean in and hit the record button. 

Reaching up, I remove the green Jets hat I’m wearing and pull off my t-shirt. I toss it aside and fit my cap back on, only turned around backwards. And last but not least, I slide my thumbs in the waist of my gym shorts, inching them _just a little_ further down my hips, lower than I would normally have them if I was working out with other people around. 

I step back into the doorway, rise up to fix my grip, and begin a vigorous set of pull-ups. After six, I definitely start to feel it and I go a little slower, squeezing myself tighter as I pull up, my head angled away as it clears the top of the door frame each time. 

After ten, I drop back down and blow out a rush of breath as I straighten my shoulders to stretch my chest. Then I turn around, peering back at the camera once over my shoulder. I reach up, widen my grip a little and this time, give him the back view as I do it all over again. 

For a minute I forget that I’m recording myself and just concentrate on technique, harsh, succinct breaths pushing out of my chest with each lift.

Once I drop down, I bend over to scoop my shirt from the floor and slide it along my sweat-dampened neck, down my chest. That’s enough recording for now, and I decide to turn the camera off and take a seat at his counter to check it out. 

Freeing my phone, I see I already received one text from him and I settle in to read it.

 **Noble** : _How’s your morning so far? Finding things to do?_

I smirk at the message and work on cutting the video to break it up into three different clips. I need to string him along. Then I return to his message and type:

 **Jamie** : _Good. Just getting a workout in._

I attach the first clip, send it, and head back to take another shower. 

***

After, I rifle through my backpack to find some clothes to wear. I choose the pair of swim trunks I brought and throw on a t-shirt with them before I move over to grab my phone off the bed to see Noble’s reply to my workout clip.

 **Noble** : _Are you fucking kidding me????????? Good god._

 **Noble** : _If I subscribe, is there more?_

 **Noble** : _Are you charging like a fee for dudes to watch this online? I am interested._

 **Noble** : _I won't say I “may have” because I definitely did watch this 7 times already._

I grin, dragging my teeth across my lower lip as I type back:

 **Jamie** : _Trying to get pointers? Improve your technique?_

 **Noble** : _Yeah this wood I'm sporting now has nothing to do with how hard your chest looks every time you make those noises and totally because of your goddamn technique._

 **Jamie** : _Maybe if you see it from the back, you can pick up some tips on your form._

 **Noble** : _Please. I would like more information on form improvement._

Amused, I shake my head while I attach the next video and send it off.

 **Noble** : _I have a running list of things I'd like to see from the back when it comes to you and coincidentally, you doing pull-ups in the doorway to my bedroom was on it. So… this is very satisfying._

 **Jamie** : _Good. Cross it off your list._

 **Noble** : _You can get the fuck out with that backwards hat. I'll never tell you how hot that just got me. You'll never know._

I sputter a laugh and make my way out into the kitchen, leaning my forearms on the counter to continue tapping out our conversation.

 **Jamie** : _I don’t want to hold you up. I know you’re busy. Work and all…_

 **Noble** : _What are the chances of you sending me a quality dick pic for my lunch break?_

 **Noble** : _And don't be a smartass. You know I mean your dick. No Googling._

I smirk.

 **Jamie** : _I'll see what I can do._

***

Dragging the black dry-erase marker carefully across the rectangular white board, I furrow my brow. The magnetic board on the side of Noble's refrigerator now boasts what I think is a fairly accurate representation of my dick. I tilt my head to scrutinize the lines, thickening one around the mushroom-like head, giving it some shadow. Nodding, impressed with my work, I step back to retrieve my phone and take a photo. 

I stifle a laugh at myself and type out a new text message to him.

 **Jamie** : _Drawn to scale._

I attach the picture of my dick illustration and send it off. 

**Noble** : _I hate you._

 **Jamie** : _You said quality. I spent like 20 minutes on that. The realism is inspiring._

 **Noble** : _Your actual pubes are way more under control. Those are absurd._

I glance up at the drawing. At the cartoonish black sprouts standing up in all directions along the ballsack I included and crack up even harder. 

**Noble** : _I can't work with that. Try again._

 **Jamie** : _Not even the dick vein?_

 **Noble** : _That's a pretty hot vein. But do better._

***

Later on, idly playing with myself beneath the waist of my shorts gets me a semi. I head back to Noble's room and decide to stroke myself all the way hard in the name of getting a good picture.

I lose my swimsuit and fall back into his bed, climbing beneath the covers. Pumping my fist along my cock, I feel it stiffen in my hand, swelling and rigid and _alright damn_. I need to ease off a little. 

I swallow with a deep breath and strum at it with my thumb until it happily bobs up and down above my stomach. Then I situate the white sheet, draping it over the shaft and adjusting the fabric until it's shrouded. I grip the base to get a good upright angle.

Grabbing my phone, I take a close-up picture before shooting off another text to Noble.

 **Jamie** : _Did you know you have a ghost?_

 **Noble** : _?_

I include the image of the friendly penis ghost, a tented white sheet and send it.

 **Noble** : _You become a real problem when you're not busy._

 **Jamie** : _I feel like I'm doing some of my best work, honestly._

 **Noble** : _Give me a few hours and I'm about ready to do some of my best work on you._

I dig my teeth into my lip, chuckling at the effort behind that one as I settle further into the pillows. He sends another one.

 **Noble** : _That was lame. I regret sending that._

 **Noble** : _I just fucking want you. And you texting me this jackassery all day only makes it worse lol._

A sly grin pulls at my cheek as I read his words and I have to laugh. 

**Jamie** : _That cartoon dick got you kinda hot didn't it?_

I picture his eyeroll as he grows more annoyed with my bullshit and it makes me a little proud.

 **Noble** : _I need to inflict some pain tonight I think._

My eyebrow jumps at his inflated threat.

 **Jamie** : _You could never._

He just sends back a kiss face emoji and it makes me smirk. God, we’re stupid. 

**Jamie** : _I want you too, by the way._

 **Noble** : _You gonna take care of what's under that sheet without me?_

 **Jamie** : _Probably. I’ve got time to kill._

 **Noble** : _If you need some help… I’ve got a video of this guy I know doing pull-ups in a doorway. No shirt. He’s hot as hell._

I chuckle with a shake of my head. 

**Noble** : _He’s wearing a backwards hat, so it’s a little douchey. But I’d still stroke one out to him._

Biting back a grin, I actually say out loud, “Get the fuck out of here,” while I type back: _How about you get back to work._

 **Noble** : _Alright, boss._

I send back the same kissing, winking emoji, because I’m a happy, lovesick idiot, and toss my phone aside to make good use of the rest of my day off.


	22. Chapter 22

“You--” Noble bends down to set his icy drink on the concrete before he lowers himself there to sit on the ledge, his legs dipping into the pool. “Are such a fucking tease.”

Once home from work, it's apparent that he had showered before finding me in the pool out back. He'd changed into those blue and pink swim trunks with flamingos posed all over them, along with a white t-shirt and my heart does a little flip at the sight. 

“Me?” Hands clasped beneath my head, I glance over at him behind my sunglasses. The lazy drift of the water ever so gently guiding the inflatable float I’m on that looks like an oversized orange lounge chair. “What am I doing?”

“A whole lotta nothing.” He smiles at me. “But you look good.”

“You wanna ride?”

“I’m content to watch for a little bit.”

A lazy laugh rolls out of me. “How was work?”

“Hot. Exhausting,” he lists.

“Mm.” I merely respond with a hum. “Well that’s a shame. My plans for us tonight were going to be hot and exhausting.”

“Oh yeah? Well for you, I’ll put in the overtime.”

Smirking, I sit up from the angled back of the float and pull off my sunglasses. Then I slide off into the water, ducking under the surface, shimmering with golden flecks of evening sun, and make my way to him. 

When I pop back up, I’m at the edge of the pool where he sits. I drag a hand up my wet face and through my hair as I set my folded shades beside his drink. “Hey.” I smile up at him.

“Oh hey.”

I come closer, between his open legs and I plant my hands on the outside of his thighs. Boosting myself up, I steady my weight in front of him.

Noble leans in, his mouth capturing mine. I tilt a little closer to chase his kiss deeper, sliding my tongue along the edge of his before I sink back down into the water.

“Get in,” I tell him.

With no need to consider it, he straightens up and reaches for the back of his t-shirt before he pulls it off himself. Then he nods his chin past my head. "Think that raft will hold us if you sit on my face?"

My head falls back. I let out a loud unexpected laugh and shove an armful of water his way. "That sounds like a really hot idea in theory only."

He sputters this adorably playful giggle, dodging my splash before he swings himself into the water to join me.

Reaching out, he snags me around my waist and brings me closer. "Maybe we should explore the theory because I've been thinking about it all day." 

My eyebrows lift, intrigued. "Really?"

"I mean not particularly on the pool float, but--" Then he shrugs and as I lean in to kiss him once more, a little rattle of interest squeaks in my throat.

With a teasing drag of his teeth, he pinches my bottom lip and eases back. I watch him lower his gaze, that dark warmth downshifting to a secret spark that I know so well. He touches his lips to the ridge of my jaw, tasting water droplets, licking just below that shadowy path to my throat.

He groans in appreciation, hands roaming over me as he slides a needy grip down the curve of my ass. The move prompts a helpless tilt of my hips, bumping into his beneath the water that easily carries my knees up and around his waist.

I dip my head ‘til my lips meet his. My hands loop around his neck, grasping his hair, holding him around the back of his head as my kiss sinks heavy with want.

In a few steps, he moves us to the edge of the pool until my back is propped against it. _God_ , he feels too good. Teasing friction that ebbs and flows with the movement of the water is still enough to make my cock throb for more of him. I could probably be convinced to get railed by him on one of his poolside lounge chairs knowing full well his neighbor is over there grilling on the other side of the fence.

With one hand, Noble drags his touch down the center of my chest, along my stomach, until turning downward to grope between my legs. “Oh, my god,” he whispers. “I want you so bad.”

A little laugh puffs out of me as I tilt my head. Grasping his face in my hand, I appreciate the coarse hair that peppers his cheek, fingertips digging in a little at the rough texture that I’m growing sort of obsessed with. I drag my thumb across his kiss-swollen bottom lip. “You can have me.”

He smirks. “Oh I will.”

“What've you been thinking about all day?”

“My head between your legs, that’s what."

"Mm. Sounds like a good place to start."

"Taking you the fuck apart with my tongue in your ass--"

I cough out, tipping my head back, "Jesus." 

"You asked."

My gaze grows heavy. With a playful stroke of my tongue, I lick the soft curve of his lower lip. Then before he can reciprocate, I tilt my chin up in a tease. "I missed that mouth." 

"Yeah? Well it's about to be all over you,” he promises.

"Let's get the hell out of this pool then.”

Tilting his weight against me, Noble glances over at his patio door and lets out a groan of complaint. “Too far.” He turns and mumbles the words along my neck. “You should have been waiting for me in the bedroom.”

I moan a little, shamelessly into the combination of kisses and bites he’s leaving on my neck. “Alright then, boss, next time I will.”

A frustrated grunt rumbles in his throat and he reaches down for the waist of my swim trunks. There he tugs them open and strokes my hard-on out into the water before stretching the band of material below my balls. Then he backs away and moves around me. “Let’s go inside.”

I can’t help but laugh, adjusting to push myself back into my shorts before I follow him. “Jerk.” 

* * *

***

“Ah, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Noble grits out the warning from over my head. 

I know he had all these promises of helping himself to my ass, but as soon as we climbed onto his bed, I had him on his back and I was over him between his legs, swallowing his cock. 

It started as a tease, a warm-up, that I couldn’t bring myself to quit. His slow broken exhales and helpless moans that escalated to thrusting hips and a clenched fist in my hair never failed to turn me into an insatiable man on a mission.

Welcoming the threat, I pull off just enough to rasp in a hot exhale, “You taste so fucking good.” And he does, _god_. My heightened senses reeling from the way he tastes and smells, all locked perfectly in my memory, making my stiff cock practically beg for him.

These sharp, gritty sighs blow out of him amid his chants of _yes, fuck_. I lift my gaze enough to watch his muscles tense, the ridges of his stomach hard and clenched as I sink him deep across my tongue to the back of my throat.

Easing back enough to wrap my lips around the head of his dick, I jerk him hard and fast in my slick fist. The move makes him tighten up as he calls out my name in a gasp, digs into the nape of my neck, and I stay for every last pulse of his release.

It takes Noble a minute of spent exhales and lazy moans before he reaches out for me. “God damn, that was good,” he breathes, arching his neck back to stretch. “I missed you so much.”

Making my way up his body, I climb over him, leaving a kissed path up his chest. My brain is still firing off sparks of arousal, surging southward as I grind my lower half into his. 

My hard-on urges against his thigh. My mouth meets his, heavy, and clearly after something -- anything -- that he would give me right now.

His hands trail my back, sliding over my ass where he pulls me into him and breaks off our kiss. “Get up here. I want you in my mouth.”

There’s a fuzzy question in my brain about mechanics, but I don’t dwell on it that long when Noble hikes another pillow up under his head and tugs at my thighs.

As I ease up to kneeling, I move closer until my knees spread to straddle his shoulders. “I am curious what that beard’ll feel like on my balls,” I note, quirking an interested eyebrow as I grasp my shaft.

“Yeah? I don’t know,” he smirks. “Come find out and show the beard who's boss.”

Amused, I nudge up a little further as Noble anticipates me, sliding his wet lips over one another and tilting his chin. I pull at my dick and watch his eyes follow it before I let it just sort of slap against the corner of his mouth.

He laughs this pleased, throaty chuckle, reaching around to grasp my ass cheeks and urge me closer. His mouth open, he leans in, his tongue catching the head of my cock, teasing the ridge there before he licks all over.

I hum, this horny growl in my throat not just from the sensation but from the visual of his lips gliding across the smooth tip before he dips there, gradually sucking more. My hips rock into him, the heat of everything he does to me steering, pulling inside my body, threatening to melt me. 

“Mm,” Noble moans, his mouth full but he pulls back enough to direct me. “More, dude. Give it to me.” Then he goes back in, needing me to do some driving of my own if he wants me that deep.

"Ah _damn_ ," I sigh, my head falling back as I lean into him. 

Tilting forward on my knees, I grasp the ledge of his headboard and plunge a little further into his mouth. My other hand steadies against his head, grasping his hair.

He moans again, so fucking sexy the way he's this eager with no real regard for a rhythm or control. It's just wet and sloppy and the way he _wants_ me like he so damn starved has me already hurtling toward release.

There’s a tightness in my balls that starts to send tremors through the clenched muscles in my core. With short, shallow strokes, I fuck his mouth, met with his low rumbling groans. 

Noble’s hand kneads the curve of my ass and he starts to sink his head back into the pillow. Pulling his mouth away, he tilts his head up and breathes out, “Let me get that ass.”

My mouth opening with a heated exhale, I let my head fall back. _Fuck yes, my god_.

Then he takes a second to toss aside the pillows he’d grabbed and he scoots himself further down onto his back.

I figure I’m about to make my way back down there, get him hard again so I can ride him. But when I start to inch back, he makes a noise in protest.

“Nuh-uh. Right here.” 

I’m still straddling his shoulders when he loops his arms through my legs and guides me closer to his face. 

"Where're you--?" I start to ask, playing dumb just to tease him. But as his breath grazes my taint, then tickles the valley of my ass as he spreads me, my question dies and just becomes this shuddering sigh. “Oh, my god,” I murmur, reaching out one hand to grasp the headboard. “Ohh-okay. So you really meant that.”

“Uh, hell yeah,” he manages. Then I feel him open me up more before the slow stroke of his tongue across my hole makes me nearly spring off of his face.

“God!” I chuckle, steadying myself as my head falls back and I let the initial shock dissipate.

Noble’s low laugh underneath me vibrates between my legs. “You okay?”

“It’s always…” I clear my throat. “Sort of a shock. Are _you_ okay?” I return the question considering… where he’s situated. But my voice just rattles, “Ohh.. fuck. _Fuucck_.”

“Yes--mm, come here,” he mumbles, wrapping a hand around my upper thigh to tug me down harder onto his mouth. “Acting like you’ve never been rimmed before.”

I laugh again that there’s even conversation happening right now. “I am not. You know I love it-- _Fuuu….ck_.” All the words just come out in a breath and I give into gravity, letting myself grind a little against the attention his tongue is giving me. 

I grip my cock, but it’s too much and I don’t want to come yet.

Somehow Noble finds my arm, and blindly grasps my wrist to pull it away. “Mm-nn,” he disapproves.

“Ugh, god,” I sigh, reaching down for his hair instead. “ _Son of a bitch_.” Panting in frustration, I grip his hair for leverage.

The tip of his tongue penetrates me and I feel his muffled moan against my heated skin. He’s so fucking proud of himself that he’s able to get these desperately squeaky sighs out of me.

He uses his hands and I feel a fingertip pulse against tight slick heat.

"Oh fuck me," I utter, sinking against him, holding onto the headboard with both hands now. I think I just mumble it again and again. The prick of his beard leaves the slightest sting that I don't mind. In fact, I seek it out a couple times before I ease up some on my knees so that he can work me a little more with his finger.

"Fuck… yes," he whispers in approval, his touch slipping past the entrance to sink further inside me.

I echo the sentiment, my eyes fluttering shut as the smooth invasion makes my head light. Oh my god it feels so good and at the same time, not enough.

Abstaining from the temptation of my own cock, I reach back for his instead.

His half-hard shaft stiffens even more at my stroke, growing thick in my hand. 

My whole body responds to it. I run my fingers through his hair again. "I want you so bad."

He manages another finger inside, stretching my tight heat. I'm losing self-control and I'm not too good to sink myself further and start fucking myself on his fingers.

When I feel his tongue again, my breath stutters, so damn needy. I take it out on his cock, closing my fist with a rhythmic purpose now.

Noble growls, shifting as he begins to urge me away from his shoulders. He's breathless when he decides, "I need you."

Swallowing hard, I adjust quickly and move toward his nightstand. With a tug at the drawer handle, I find his lube but forego a condom.

Panting, I ask him, "Will you come inside me?"

His chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, he nods. "Hell yeah, get over here."

With a slick fist, I return to his cock, pumping a few more times. His groan wavers as if he can barely handle that and in an instant, he takes over. Turning on his side, he grasps my waist and urges my back to his front.

I fall against him, hiking my leg up enough to feel for him and guide him toward me. With lubed fingers, he reaches between my legs and rubs me a few more times until the head of his cock nudges my opening.

Working completely off feeling, I adjust to accept him as he slowly pushes into me. His chest jumps against my back as he tries to control his breathing and he pulls me closer.

The both of us just mumble a string of groans and whispered _yes, oh fuck yes_ es as we hold still a moment until we fit together completely. 

_Good goddamn_ , I don't even want to move. I haven't felt him like this in so long. It's like he's everywhere inside me.

Noble spreads his hand out across my stomach and with a languid pace, rocks his hips behind me. He hums a rumbling grunt at the back of my neck. "You're so tight and perfect. You feel so fucking good, Jamie."

His words shoot heat down my spine and I can't articulate anything but a drawn-out moan. 

His outside arm hooks under my thigh and he opens me up even more.

Reaching up and behind me, I feel for the back of his head to hold onto something for leverage where I can push back against each one of his strokes. 

Holding my hips down, he pumps harder and I swear it sets off a spark in my core every fucking time he hits his target. 

" _Oh god, yes_ ," I whisper. Then his hand wraps around my dick, he squeezes just barely and I seriously might black out. "Fuck, you're so good."

He lets go and pulls out enough to shift his position, dragging me across the bed a little as he rises onto his knees. We manage to contort a couple different ways. 

Noble on his knees, one of my legs thrown over his shoulder. 

Me on my side once more while he props himself over me. 

It's all so fucking shameless and needy and hot. Not some mindless pounding, but just letting one another have all there is to us, not wanting it to end, feeling both connected and exposed, safe and vulnerable. 

Not to mention I've been down to get fucked by him like this for too long and he knows it. 

I turn into the bed a little more when he lowers his weight at my back. He pushes my knee up the mattress. And at this point… _fuuucccck okay yeah_ , we might have unraveled into a mindess pounding but _oh god_ , it feels so good to take.

I grasp the edge of the bed and dig my forehead into the sheets. I feel his head rest between my shoulder blades as he breathes hot on my neck, murmuring how much he loves being inside me.

"I wanna fucking feel you when you come," I demand, squeezing a fistful of the sheets.

"Jee-sus fuck, baby," he swears. Noble snaps when I talk like that and I know he can barely keep it together. "You already made me shoot once, you gonna do it again?"

All I can manage is some hot noise of affirmation. My shaft trapped against the bed, it’s just enough perfect stimulation to send me beyond the brink at any moment.

Amid another few muttered curses, he shatters, thrusting deep, his fingertips grip my side as I'm pushed into the bed. And when I feel the pulse of his release, I fucking break. 

The spiral of my orgasm seems endless and consuming. But it finally dissipates and I'm left completely spent, face down on the sheets and useless. My entire body just throbs with a heartbeat on fire.

I'm still uttering these weary sighs as Noble eases out and falls beside me, his arm draped across my back.

"Dude," he says in a lazy chuckle. "I've never understood people who cry after sex because they were so moved or whatever but… you might see me fucking weep after that."

I summon enough muscle strength to smile and a lethargic laugh jostles my back as I murmur, "I think you fucked my soul, man."

He sputters an even harder laugh and we both crack up as much as our exhausted bodies can manage.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New year, same old dumbassery!

"Do you want me to order room service?" Noble murmurs the question as he stretches beneath the covers.

Last night, we wore each other the hell out and afterward, managed to get cleaned up, take a hot shower and put new sheets on the bed before we basically fell into them and went to sleep. 

I've been up long enough to make coffee but that's about all I accomplished this morning before I crawled back into his bed.

"Babe, we're in your house," I tell him.

A lazy smile surfaces on his handsome face. “Oh yeah.” Eventually, he blinks his eyes open and begins to sit up. 

Adjusting on my slanted pillows propped against the headboard, I glance over at him. “I forgot how cute your hair looks in the morning--” 

“Shut up,” Noble mutters with a smirk, reaching over to the nightstand for his glasses. With a hopeless attempt, he drags a hand through his hair to tame the fluffy mess of curls. “I was born this way, okay?”

I grin up at him, amused. “Between that, and the beard, you’re like some… rogue hitchhiker I picked up who had his way with me--”

Turning, he dives over me, ducking his head against my chest.

Amid my chuckles, I tip my head back and hold him to me. “I didn’t say I hate it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groans, settling there across my torso. “Ugh, I’m so hungry.”

“So let’s eat. I started coffee.”

We manage to haul our asses out of bed, each pulling on just a pair of sweatpants. Out in the kitchen, Noble starts on breakfast -- omelets with whatever veggies he can find to chop and throw in, sausage links, and toast until eventually, our hunger is satiated.

With minds clearer, we help each other clean up the kitchen, then decide to go to the beach.

The mood is so easy in a way I haven’t felt for a long time. Big decisions hang over us, but it doesn’t feel oppressive or daunting. We can take our time.

* * *

***

Not even a week ago, it was sleeting in New York, but Miami Beach is gorgeous. Sunny skies at eighty-something degrees in April, with the beach just down the road, it feels like a vacation here all the time. And in my handful of trips to Miami, Noble and I had never been to the beach together. 

“You’re looking pretty damn Irish there,” he teases, lobbing a football into my stomach that I just manage to catch after I drop my t-shirt on the beach towel.

I glance down at myself in plain black swim trunks, the length admittedly a little shorter than something I would have bought maybe a year ago. "Hey now. My spray tan guy was out of town."

Noble sputters a laugh, tugging off his own shirt before he slides his black sunglasses back on. He looks hot in those mint green shorts of his. Tall and strong, the flex of muscles in his thighs snags my attention. And it isn’t long before I realize I’m not the only one who notices him. 

Since so often, it’s just the two of us, I forget how effortlessly he draws people in with his overall presence. There's no shortage of gorgeous people in Miami, but I see actual damn heads turn when he walks further down the beach.

We find a spot to spread out, separating enough distance for me to launch the football his way. Noble catches my first pass as it _thunks_ into his chest.

"Oh!" He shouts, turning to jog back a few steps. "Coming out of the gate with that cannon." As he returns the pass, I have to run along the water's edge to get under it before I just manage to snag that catch. 

I blow out a harsh breath and shake my head at him from across the way. “Rough, Nick.”

He grins, circling his elbow up and around. “I gotta get loose.”

We get into an easy rhythm with a few more passes. Noble sends a tight spiral right between my hands when I hear “Heads up!” and a frisbee goes flying behind Noble, knocking into the back of his neck before it lands in the water.

“Whoa!” Noble calls out, flinching back to find the culprit.

“Oh god, sorry about that!” Another guy makes his way toward us -- or rather, makes his way toward Noble while I attempt to rescue the frisbee from a wave that’s receding into the ocean. 

“It was all her fault.” He points back to a young woman in a baseball cap further up the beach who merely holds her hands out with an attempt at an innocent grin before shouting, “Sorry!”

“It’s no problem,” Noble dismisses with a laugh.

After snagging the frisbee from the water, I meet the two of them where they’re standing and see this guy -- about my height but more built all around, a thicker neck and bulked up chest. Tattoos swirl along his arms and his light hair is streaked with sunlight as he smiles up at Noble.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Noble drags his hand along the back of his neck. “No harm done.”

“In my defense, you’re a little distracting.” The guy grins. “If I can make it up to you with a neck rub--” He merely presents his open hand in my direction, without so much as a glance, an absent demand for the frisbee. “Come find me at the yellow umbrella.”

“I…” Noble’s brow shifts at the delayed realization. “Oh.”

Tossing the orange disc into the guy’s chest, I insert, “Better yet, try catching it next time.”

The other guy’s expression hardens as he lets his gaze shift to me. “Easy, there.” His eyes move lower and back up, as if assessing whether I’m irked at some dude thinking my bro is gay, or a jealous boyfriend. I can tell when he decides it’s the latter when a little smirk twitches at his lips and he turns away. 

Noble's mouth slants open and he turns to look at me, amused satisfaction dancing on his cheek.

I just angle my head, feeling my jaw tense. "I got something I can do to your neck later."

"Ha!" He coughs. "Hey, I was just standing here."

My eyes narrow. "Being so distracting." Then I chuck the football at him and move back . "I can't take you anywhere."

* * *

***

A day like this seemed unimaginable just a couple weeks ago. Noble and I take full advantage of a responsibility-free day together. Sleeping in, playing around on the beach, soaking in warm sun and ocean air, followed by a cool-off in Noble's shower is like giving myself a full charge in a way I haven’t felt in so long. 

That charge easily takes us from the shower to the bed because it's late in the middle of the day and we _can_. And alright, maybe I need to make sure there's not a trace of that fucking dumbass who can't catch a frisbee lingering in the back of Noble's mind. 

His core shakes with a jumpy breath where he lays on his back beneath me. "Ohhh, _my god_ ," he groans into my mouth.

I’ve worked two slick fingers inside him, sinking further in a lazy rhythm while I graze the tip of my thumb up the trail of his taint, just to make him light-headed, while I claim his mouth with my own.

A low growl of frustration hums in his throat as his teeth drag across my bottom lip. "Please fuck me," he rasps.

"Hm." I manage this intrigued little noise. "Oh really?"

"Fuck yes really."

My fingertip faintly pushes against his prostate and I exhale a moan as I feel his muscles twitch and then stretch. I urge in one more slicked finger.

Noble sucks in air through his teeth and breaks off my kiss to push his head back into the pillow. 

I pause my movements, knowing the tight sting he feels, and take his mind off it when I lean down and stroke my tongue across the head of his dick.

"Oh Jesus fuck!" His words edge out in a rushed sigh. 

I feel my own smirk as I take him further, slow about everything I'm doing because I'm hooked on the way he's just uttering nonsense that gets lost between his uneven breaths.

He reaches down, dragging strong fingertips up my shoulder blade, squeezing there, up my neck and into my hair while I get his cock wet and messy in my mouth. 

When I feel him ready for me, I shift, easing out of him. After more lube, I lift his hips from underneath, prop my thighs under them and push the head of my cock to gradually fill him where my fingers left off.

Broken whispers shake from his mouth. "Ohhh fuck, oh fuck, oh _fuck fuck fuck_."

Hitching his knees further up my sides, I lean into him and hold still as the sensation overtakes the both of us. With harsh exhales, we hardly move, only adjusting and getting past the initial overwhelming pressure and dizzying heat. I've never been inside him without a condom before and I might fucking black out before I even get to fully enjoy it.

My chest lowers onto his and I bury my face in his neck, murmuring hot praise against his skin. _God, that's it baby, you feel amazing._

Noble's hands dig into my back, my hair, holding me to him with a desperate grip. We ride each other, still slow but so intense. I'm completely present but it makes this simmering tightness coil and buzz low in my center when I let myself be this aware of every feeling. 

Hot breaths and Noble's ragged words encircle the air around us. With a controlled rhythm, I rock my hips against his, reaching between us to close my fist around his hard-on and it's so fucking thick and rigid, I can feel how desperate he is for release.

"Yessss," he draws out, arching his neck back, fucking into my hand as I move to fill him until we're both growling and our orgasms pound through us. 

His body grips mine with these satisfying little shutters that refuse to let him go until finally every part of him surrenders.

"Oh, my god," he groans again, his chest heaving a spent breath as he smiles up at the ceiling. "You made me come so hard. That's like… on a whole different level. I mean…" He's panting and I'm amused and pleased by this state I've rendered him while I just collapse on his shoulder and peer up at him.

"I know. You needed some reminding.”

“God. That felt incredible.” He sighs. “You’re amazing and perfect and I want to keep you forever.”

I have to chuckle at his state of pure elation. I’m definitely familiar. I’m content to come down from the high right here, my weight resting against him. I turn in to touch a kiss to his chest, then across his shoulder. “I feel the same way about you.”

His body expands with another deep breath and he says in an exhale, “We should do something about that.”

My eyebrow twitches and the muscle at the corner of my mouth pulls. I push myself up a little closer to him before my gaze dances with his a moment and I drop a kiss on his lips. “Let’s go home.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I love them that's all.

"These are some awfully relaxing accommodations you offer down here,” I call out from Noble’s living room, appreciating another sip from the whiskey highball he had made for me before he jumped in the shower. We’re going out tonight, meeting Bianca for dinner. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a night out together and that familiar happy anticipation buzzes through me while I wait for him. “Don't let me get used to it."

“I could definitely get used to you hanging out with me every day,” he calls back. “Looking hot on my couch. The vibe really suits you.”

I chuckle softly, glancing down at my watch. Noble had been back in his room, getting ready for a while. “Too much longer and I’m just gonna be out here, buzzed by myself--”

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute.”

“You got somebody you’re trying to impress?” 

“Well that guy from the beach said he’d meet us out tonight--”

My expression shifts to the biggest eyeroll I can manage as I push myself up from the couch. “Ohh,” I shout. “So you’re gonna be like that?”

His taunting laugh trails from his bedroom down the hall and I make my way to follow it.

“All my energy is spent trying to impress you,” he reminds me. 

I lean against the doorframe. “Ah, I see. No time for your meathead admirers, huh?”

“No time.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa--” I start, noticing him as he passes by on his way to the closet. Urging my shoulder off the wall, I come in closer. “What did I just see? Come here.”

Retrieving a belt, he makes his way back out, his brow slanted. “What?”

My mouth opens in surprise when I see his face completely clean shaven. “Oh _damn_. Hey, I know you from somewhere.”

Noble smiles, letting me pull him in to me at his sides as he gestures to his own chin. “What, this?”

“I wasn’t ready,” I tell him, reaching up to stroke my thumb across his smooth cheek and down the angle of his jaw. That, plus the white dress shirt he’s wearing that sets off his sunkissed skin, thick forearms stemming from cuffed sleeves, have me second guessing whether I even want to leave this house tonight.

“Are you mad?” He smirks.

“I’m only mad you look this fucking hot and we have to go.” Leaning in, I press my mouth just beneath his ear and trail slow kisses around his throat. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Ugh!” He lets out a dramatic groan. “Your compliments are so romantic. I don’t deserve you.”

I laugh against his skin, tugging him against me as my nose nudges his cheek and my lips find his.

The spark from his kiss lights a fuse in me. Damn him. One hand trails down his chest to the front of his pants while I grasp his hair in my other hand. I expect him to deny me any minute because we’ve got to go, but instead, he moans softly into the kiss and I start to feel the stiffening outline of his dick beneath my stroke.

I start to tug the hem of his shirt out of his pants while I glance at my watch. “What time is it?” I don’t even care, sinking to my knees anyway and work open the button at his waist.

***

* * *

"You're late. You guys were doing it!" Bianca accuses. In the alcove entrance to the restaurant where she’s been waiting for us, she arches one satisfied eyebrow as she leans in to greet me with a hug.

Noble shoots her a look. "Shut up! We're not that late."

His sister gasps, over it already as she takes his face in her hands. “Thank! God! You shaved. Jamie, what’d you do? Hold him down with a razor to his face?”

Exhaling a laugh, Noble turns out of her grasp to approach the hostess about a table.

I smile. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well it’s about time,” she decides. "He looked like a damn caveman."

“He cleans up pretty nice.”

We’re led away, down the hall to an elevator. Noble had mentioned this place was known for its waterfront views so the fact that I’m about to eat sushi on a rooftop sounds like an ideal way to end this already perfect day. At the top floor, the hostess takes us past an open-air bar, palm trees situated between plush white couches before we’re seated at a cozy, votive-lit table along the rooftop railing.

“So…” Bianca begins, adjusting in her chair. She brushes some hair out of her eye and gives us her bright grin. “Have we had a successful weekend so far?”

My brow slants in a question. “Successful?”

She taps one finger against her lips and narrows her thoughtful gaze. “Mm-hm,” she decides. “You two have been busy.”

“Can you not… be a nosy perv?” Noble complains. “For just a night.”

Amused, I shake my head and glance down at my menu, feeling a telltale heat creep into my cheeks. “He says that as if it’s never him,” I murmur.

“I know,” Bianca says. “Give him three drinks and then he’s crying at a party about how he can’t drink Cabernet anymore because it tastes like the last night you guys--”

“Hey, I didn’t cry at that party!” Noble insists. “I was just drunk and bummed about Jamie… and in a pit of lonely despair.”

Bianca’s gaze slides over to me, her nose scrunching with a pleased laugh. I’m not sure what party they’re talking about but I’m no stranger to that state of mind so I don’t even question it.

“Don’t play too cool with me,” she warns. “I know how much you missed each other. Now I need some payoff. Give me updates.”

“Yes,” Noble affirms, settling a look on her. “We’re back together. Things are good--”

“Oh, my god. Yay!” Bianca makes this squeaking sound and hides her mouth behind clenched fists. Then, holding her hands over her heart, she offers us this face that just makes Noble laugh softly with a shake of his head. But we sneak a glance at each other anyway, amused at the effect this has on her.

The server returns with our drinks and I let Noble know I trust him to order for the table.

“Yes, please,” Bianca agrees. “As long as it includes the truffle scallop roll.”

“I could tell you had good taste,” our server praises, her eyes brightening with a smile. “It’s what we’re known for.”

“I’d die for it,” she nods.

“Okay,” Noble laughs. “Two of those, because… I agree. And let’s start with some crispy brussels sprouts, and the chef’s sashimi first. Before the scallop rolls. Please.” 

“Absolutely,” the waitress confirms, seeming downright moved by his combination and timeline.

Noble shifts his gaze, gesturing a finger to me, his eyebrow cocked as if reading my mind. “Unagi?”

I nod, one pleased cheek twitching as he remembers my favorite. “Oh yeah.”

“Make sure we get some eel for the good-looking one over there,” he notes. 

“Oh, no,” Bianca groans dramatically. “I have to endure this kinda talk tonight, huh?”

I merely return her look with a good-natured shrug. 

Noble thanks the server, sending her on her way as Bianca turns to me. “Jamie, how long are you staying?”

“I’m heading back later on tomorrow--”

“No!” She complains, then looks to her brother. “Don’t let him.”

“Well hang on,” he says. “We’ve got some things to talk to you about.” 

The two of us look to her and Bianca’s eyes start to glitter with anticipation. “You want me to give you away at your wedding? I say yes--”

“Oh, my god,” Noble huffs. 

I chuckle in amusement as Bianca glances to me, always pleased when she annoys him. 

“First of all, _no_ ,” he clarifies. “But…” Then he presses his lips together and moves his cocktail glass a little on the table. “I’m gonna move back to New York.” His gaze lifts to her, seeming to assess her reaction.

His sister blinks, the tease fading from her expression. She doesn’t frown, just slowly processes the statement. I can almost see the wheels turning behind a gaze that becomes serious.

“Permanently?” She questions.

Noble pauses for a sip of his drink, then glances to me before he nods faintly. “Yeah.”

Bianca looks to me, waiting for confirmation.

“I’ve had a lot of conversations with my dad,” I tell her.

“Whoa.”

I nod. “He knows… everything. Pretty much. How much we’ll clue the NYPD in on all of this is still undecided. On the one hand, y’know, it’s nobody’s business and we’re not obligated to. But on the other, all things considered, the department could be a valuable asset. At least certain circles.”

She breathes out this laugh in disbelief and just looks at us. “Are you guys for real?”

Noble and I answer in unison. “Yep.”

I keep going. “I think it’s important we’re not actively trying to hide anything. I get… outed at work and it could be a bigger deal than it needs to be. It’ll be heavy scrutiny regardless. But if we’re able to get ahead of it, we can manage any kind of communication that gets put out there.”

“Ideally, none,” Bianca adds.

“Exactly.”

“So your family…” she hedges. “They’re supportive?”

A soft smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “Now that I've talked to them. Yeah.”

Noble’s gaze catches mine as he reaches for his drink. “Until they meet me. And then they say, _oh hell no, ship him back to Florida_.” 

I hiss a gentle laugh. “Yeah right.” 

“Aw, Jamie.” Bianca gives me this impressed little smirk. “That’s huge, you told them. I’m proud of you.”

I sniff in amusement and pick up my glass. No one had really said that yet and I take a moment to appreciate it and try to tame the twitch at my cheek. “Well thank you.”

Noble lands a firm hand on my shoulder and squeezes there. I look at him and smirk, giving an easy wink. "Your sister's proud of me." 

He sputters a laugh and just digs his teeth into his lower lip.

I lean back, needing to give the fullness in my chest a break for a minute and I take a drink. “So you hopping in the moving truck with him, Isabella Salcedo?” My eyebrow arches at her.

Bianca stalls a moment, her mouth open in pause as she shifts her gaze between me and Noble. “What would that mean?”

"Would you move if I moved?" He questions.

Her eyes dance and I can tell she's caught off guard, even though they've talked about this before. We all have. But it's real now, not just hypothetical, and we're dealing with actual decisions that affect one another. 

"Think about it," I add. 

We fill her in on the things my dad said - how the fact that both she and Noble have clean records will make Witsec more inclined to work with them on a New York relocation. A nudge and friendly phone call from my sister to a contact she has at the DOJ probably wouldn’t hurt either. We tell her how my dad will likely have an off-the-record point person that briefs him on OCCB phone taps specific to what’s left of any known Cavazerre contacts. Bianca blinks hard as she processes all the effort and coordination all of this seems to require.

“It’s the job process for me that’s got me stressed,” Noble notes. “You know, let’s say I go in for a chef’s position. To a restaurant, Nick Salcedo has zero experience.”

“Witsec can forge transcripts and references,” I reason. “I’ll be your reference.”

He laughs. “You do have some pull in that city, I’ve heard.”

“Bullshit,” I chuckle.

“So what’s your backstory, then, as a couple?” Bianca wonders. “If people ask how you met. You can’t say how it really went down.”

“This is true,” I muse, turning to look at Noble. “It’s best to stay close to the truth, though.”

“Are we gonna tell people we met at a party you had to shut down after the police were called?” He grins. “Real charming.”

I have to laugh. “Yeah pretty much. It’s partially true.”

“Dude, that makes me seem like such an asshole.”

“What about me? It makes me look sleazy as hell!” I assert. “I was on duty and took the hotel room key you offered.”

“Damn, Jamie!” Bianca smacks her palm on the table and cracks up before taunting me. “Thirsty boy.”

I see Noble eye his sister as he nods into his drink to confirm it. I have to drag my fingertips across my brow in an embarrassed effort to shield my face.

“You could have so easily _not_ taken the room key,” Noble decides. “And been like--” Then his voice does this impersonation of me-- “ _Sober up, I’m not your guy_. You could’ve shut it all down and just left. But no. And meanwhile, I was just offering. Creating a little diversion so that you’d stop questioning me.”

I keep laughing, squeezing my eyes shut because Bianca is still over there giggling. 

He keeps teasing. “But something made you pocket that key, man--”

I smile at him, my cheeks growing sore. “Yeah, I know exactly what that _something_ was. I stopped denying it a long time ago.”

Amused, he bites into his bottom lip and reaches over to jostle my leg.

After swallowing another sip of my drink, I remind him, “You could have told me to go fuck myself that night instead of offering to cook me dinner.”

“I would never say that to a cop.”

Bianca chimes in, “A good Italian would say both.”

Noble’s loud laugh amuses me. Then the Long Island boy comes out in him, that accent thick when he jokes, “Go fuck yourself. Sit down, have some meatballs.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')

I feel Noble's absence before I open my eyes. Shifting on my pillow, I glance up to see the space beside me empty, then to the clock -- almost two a.m.

Our night out together had been a blast. Dinner on a Miami rooftop turned into drinks from the bar before we settled onto the bench of couches. There we attracted a few others who mainly provided Bianca with someone else to talk to while Noble and I tested the waters of being a definitely out and public couple. A night out with him, even with Bianca in the mix, always sparks something to life inside me.

We kept things pretty tame, leaving before the night took us someplace else. And when Noble and I got back to his place, we made better use of the night in his bed.

But apparently, I’m the only one who’s worn out since here I am alone.

Stretching, I push the covers down and make my way from the bed, scouting some underwear in the dark. I find a pair of gym shorts first and just pull those on instead, before I continue out of his bedroom.

There’s no sign of him in the house. The TV’s not on, no lights. But eventually I spot him out back by the pool. 

“There you are,” I note, scratching a hand through my hair as I slide the glass door closed behind me. I approach the big cushioned lounger, oversized like a bed and rounded on the end where Noble’s stretched out.

He adjusts when he hears me and glances up. “Hey,” he rasps. Lazily, he holds out an arm to me. “Sorry. I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to bother you.”

I look around for evidence -- a pack of cigarettes or a bottle of some sort -- something he could have been doing to pass the time, but it’s just him out here empty-handed in the near-blackness of night. “You alright?”

Noble moves over, opening and flexing with his hand to indicate that he wants me closer. “Sit with me.”

I slide in beside him and can’t help a nervous swallow when I wonder if he’s having second thoughts about moving. Sitting up a little taller, I bring him closer against my side. We sit there for a quiet moment, my fingertips tracing the path of his arm, then up his shoulder.

“You gonna miss this place?” I eventually ask.

“No.”

I sniff softly. 

He continues. “I just… worry I’m gonna fuck up. That things won’t go as planned. And you’ll regret all of this.”

“Noble.”

“I know,” he groans, like he’s bothered with himself. “Bleh, shut up. That’s why I came out here and didn’t annoy you with my thoughts in bed.”

Chuckling, my hand digs into his soft hair and I lean in to press a kiss to his head. “You never annoy me with your thoughts.” I shift down a little to tangle our legs together. “And guess what.”

“Hm.”

“Things probably won’t go as planned,” I tell him. “And I’ll still love you.”

He groans again and turns, all the way until he moves himself on top of me, pinning a knee on either side of my thighs. “I love you so much,” he murmurs into the side of my neck. 

I have to laugh at the way he’s draped all over me. A happy little moan rumbles in my chest from the solid weight of him.

"I promise I'll only fuck up within reason," he says.

"You've got your shit together way more than you think you do."

"I just have you fooled."

"I'm never fooled.” I run a hand up his back and down again. “I know you. And I trust you. And I’m proud of you.”

“Oh, god!” He cries out dramatically against my chest and it makes me laugh again. 

“But,” I add. “I understand this is a lot.”

With a deep inhale, he picks up his head to look at me. Shadowed in black and blues in the darkness, his eyes still shine as they catch the moonlight. “ _You’re_ a lot.”

An amused grin tugs at my cheeks. “Am I?”

“You’re everything I want.”

“Oh!” I breathe out and can’t resist teasing, “So serious.”

“Shut up, _you_!” He retorts, sliding further down on top of me before he grasps the waist of my shorts and starts to pull down the front. There, he teases a kiss at my waist, then lower at my hip.

I feel myself tilt into him, glancing down to watch his descent. My cock twitches, already roused from the way he was laying on top of me, and I manage a broken breath. “Mm, how ‘bout we go back inside?”

He makes this little noise when he discovers I’m not wearing underwear, then drags his nose and more kisses down the crease at my thigh. Lifting his head, he looks at me when he decides, “No.” Then he eases back and pulls off my shorts.

The way he swipes them out from under me and loses them so fast makes me tip my head back against the pillows of the lounge chair. I dig my teeth into my lower lip before letting out this open-mouthed, heavy laugh. Then I can’t help but turn to glance at the neighboring property. And the one on the other side. “Oh, my god,” I mutter.

“What?” Noble shrugs. “It’s the middle of the night.”

I chuckle. “What if they have cameras?” Fuck if I care, really.

“We’re not in their damn yard,” he insists as he wraps one fist loosely around my hard-on. I feel myself grow stiffer in his grasp and a stuttering moan vibrates from my throat.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been naked outside, now I think about it. Other than maybe outdoor showers on camping trips, but that doesn't count. 

“You’re the one who’s gonna wake everyone up with your loudness,” Noble accuses.

“Shhh-shut--” I start to laugh, but can’t even finish when he sinks his mouth down the column of my dick. “--Up. _God_.” Pressing my lips together, I try to suppress a loud moan, but when he drags his wet tongue along my shaft, the noise just growls in my chest instead. 

“Besides,” he pulls off long enough to reason. “I’m moving out anyway,”

I exhale hard and gently guide his head. “Yeah, good point.”

* * *

***

Glancing over at Noble from the passenger seat of his car, I try to discern his expression while he drives. Sunglasses hide his eyes while he gazes out at the expressway. 

I know he feels me looking at him when he reaches over and squeezes above my knee. “Feeling alright?” He wonders.

“I’m good. I’m bummed the weekend’s over, but. I think we made the most of it.”

Noble smiles, his hands slipping down the steering wheel. “Hell yeah we did.”

I smirk. “I’m glad you finally got some sleep at three a.m.”

I spot the way his eyebrows jump at the memory of our poolside activities the night before. “You know, you were worried about my neighbors’ cameras, but didn’t think to question whether _I_ have security cameras. And I definitely do and I’ll be reviewing the footage later.”

My head tips back against the seat and I let out a loud laugh. “Seriously?”

He grins. “Yeah, man.”

Shaking my head, I turn my amused gaze out the window. “Send it to me if it’s any good.” It charms me for a moment thinking about how the cameras would have also captured us sleeping out there. After fooling around until we got off -- which was admittedly hot as hell to do outside in the middle of the night -- Noble grabbed a couple of soft blankets he had stowed away and we fell asleep out on his cushioned lounger by the pool. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to wake up, and we probably would have gotten better sleep in his bed. But at that point, we were spent and just wanted to be close to each other for another few hours until it was time to face the day.

“I am far happier this time than I usually am when one of us has to go to the airport,” Noble decides.

“Yeah, it’s a better feeling this time around.”

“God, that was always so depressing, leaving you. I used to dread it.”

“But this time it’s temporary.”

He nods in agreement and rests his head back a little while he drives. 

“I’ll miss Miami a little, though,” I tell him. “We had some good times here.”

He laughs softly. “We can always take a vacation.”

At the off-ramp, Noble navigates to the departures curb and I’m struck by the memory of the first time we ended a weekend here. All the uncertainties and confusion, the way we didn’t know what the next step would be and were just hoping the other wouldn’t be the first to fold their hand.

It all feels so different now. Wearing the soft grey and blue Napoli football club t-shirt of Noble’s that I swiped from his dresser, I try to head home with a piece of him. And even though I’m leaving today, we’re going into the next step together. 

“Nice,” he sings, slipping into an open spot just outside the terminal. “Made good time.”

“Thanks for letting me crash this weekend.” I look over at him.

He laughs, leaning across the center console to meet my smirk with a kiss. 

Shamelessly, I grumble a little, not ready to pull away. My hand finds his head to tighten in his hair a little and I taste his lips once again. We rest there a moment and he opens his eyes to meet my gaze, then pinches the edge of my chin a little and affectionately scratches his fingers along my jaw.

The noise of surrounding whistles and airport traffic keep me from getting too lost, and I shift to reach for the door. Stepping out from the passenger seat, I turn and grab my stuff out of the back. 

I slide the strap of my backpack onto my shoulder when Noble comes around the front of the car to meet me. I peer up as he comes closer to assure him, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yes, you will.” Gently grasping the side of my face, he leans in and touches his lips to mine, soft and only lingering a few seconds. There’s still a zip of nervous energy I feel from the knowledge that other people are nearby, but a smile pulls at my cheeks as he eases away and urges me into a tight hug. 

Passing a soothing hand across his back, I squeeze a little before I murmur my love for him against his cheek and drop back to turn for the doors, knowing this time that we’re all in.


End file.
